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AT    LOS  ANGELES 


Gift  of 
Mrs.  Prank  Good 


ROUND    THE 

WONDERFUL 
WORLD 

BY    G.    E.    MITTON 

AUTHOR   OF 
"THE  BOOK  OF  LONDON"    "IN  THE  GRIP  OF  THE  WILD  WA "   ETC. 


t  t  I    I    I    i 


I  J  •      I  6 


27  i 


NEW    YORK 
G.    P.    PUTNAM'S     SONS 

LONDON  :  T.  C.  &  E.  G.  JACK 


TO 

JIM 


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•  •  •     -  «  -    • 


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•  •     • 

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I  ••       • •     • 


CONTENTS 


CHAP 
I. 

Which  Way  ?    . 

PAGE 
1 

II. 

Really  Off  !     . 

20 

III. 

Fiery  Mountains          .... 

.       36 

IV. 

The  Strangest  Country  in  the  World 

51 

V. 

The  Highway  of  Egypt 

.       65 

VI. 

A  Mighty  Man             .... 

.       75 

VII. 

The  City  of  Kings      .... 

85 

VIII. 

On  the  Nile    ..... 

.      95 

IX. 

A  Million  Sunrises     .... 

.     109 

X. 

A  Walk  about  Jerusalem 

.     120 

XI. 

The  Country  of  Christ's  Childhood 

.     139 

XII. 

An  Adventure              .... 

.     147 

\XIII. 

The  Gateway  of  the  East     . 

.     153 

XIV. 

X 
XV. 

The  Depths  of  the  Ocean 
A  Tropical  Thunderstorm 

.     168 
.     179 

XVI. 

A  Sacred  Tree             .... 

.     192 

XVII. 

Unwelcome  Intruders 

.     203 

XVIII. 

The  Capital  of  India 

.      218 

XIX. 

To  Till.   Dkatii  !             .              .              .              . 

.      235 

VI 


CONTENTS 


CHAP. 

XX.  A  City  of  Priests    . 

XXI.  The  Golden  Pagoda 

XXII.  The  King's  Representative  . 

XXIII.  The  Centre  of  the  Universe 

XXIV.  On  a  Cargo  Boat     . 
XXV.  Jim's  Story  . 

XXVI.  Through  Eastern  Straits  and  Islands 
XXVII.  The  Land  of  the  Little  People 
XXVIII.   In  a  Japanese  Inn    . 
XXIX.  Thousands  of  Salmon 
XXX.  The  Great  Divide    . 
XXXI.   On  a  Cattle   Ranch 
XXXII.  The  Great  Lakes 
XXXIII.  Old  Friends  Again  . 
Index , 


PAGE 

.  242 

.  250 

.  264 

.  271 

.  278 

.  291 

.  304 

.  320 

.  332 

.  345 

.  358 

.  371 

.  382 

.  388 

.  395 


PLATES    IN    COLOUR 

The  Mighty  Seated  Figures  at  Abu  Simbel  .  .      Frontispiece 

FACING    PAGE 

She  is  on  the  point  of  leaving  her  Country,  perhaps  for  ever   .       24 

English  Soldiers  climbing  the  Pyramids        .  .  .  .56 

Jews'  Wailing  Place,  Jerusalem  .  .  .  .  .128 

Swaying    its   lean   unlovely   Body   to    and  fro  in  Time  with  the 

Tune  ........     200 

A  Carpet  Shop,  Delhi  .  .  .  .  .  ,     224 

The  Golden  Pagoda     .......     256 

A  Burmese  Play  .......     288 

A    Village   built   on    Piles,   Sumatra.      Little   Brown    Boys   play 

about  and  fish       .  .  .  .  .  ,  .312 

Our  Dinner  in  a  Japanese  Inn  .....     S36 

Indians  as  they  are  now         ......     376 

The  Falls  of  Niagara  ......     388 


vU 


STRANGE    BRIDGE   AT    MARSEILLES. 


ROUND    THE   WONDERFUL 

WORLD 


CHAPTER    I 


WHICH    WAY  : 

When  you  have  noticed  a  fly  crawling  on  a  ball  or  an  orange 
has  it  ever  occurred  to  you  how  a  man  would  look  crawling 
about  on  the  earth  if  seen  from  a  great  height  ?  Our 
world  is,  as  everyone  knows,  like  an  orange  in  shape, 
only  it  is  very  much  larger  in  comparison  with  us  than  an 
orange  is  in  regard  to  a  fly.  In  fact,  to  make  a  reasonable 
comparison,  we  should  have  to  picture  the  fly  crawling 
about  on  a  ball  or  globe  fifty  miles  in  height ;  to  get  all 
round  it  he  would  have  to  make  a  journey  of  something 
like  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles.  It  would  take  a  deter- 
mined fly  to  accomplish  that  !  Yet  we  little  human 
beings  often  start  off  on  a  journey  round  the  world  quite 
cheerfully,  and  it  is  more  difficult  for  us  than  for  I  lie 
imaginary  fly,  because  the  globe  is  not  a  smooth  surface 
of  dry  land,  but  is  made  up  of  jungles  and  deserts  and 
I 


2    ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

forests  and  oceans.  There  are  some  places  where  people 
can  do  nothing  in  the  heat  of  the  day,  and  others  where 
their  flesh  freezes  like  cold  white  marble  in  a  moment 
if  they  don't  take  precautions. 

To  set  out  on  foot  around  such  a  world  would  be  folly, 
and  man  has  invented  all  sorts  of  ingenious  machines  to 
carry  him, — trains  and  steamers,  for  instance, — and  with 
their  help  he  can  do  the  journey  in  a  reasonable  time.  It 
costs  money,  of  course,  but  it  is  a  glorious  enterprise. 

Here,  in  our  own  homes,  we  see  pretty  much  the  same 
things  every  day — green  fields  and  trees,  cows  and  sheep 
and  horses,  if  we  live  in  the  country  ;  and  houses  and 
streets  and  vehicles,  if  we  live  in  the  town.  Everyone 
we  meet  speaks  the  same  language ;  even  if  we  were  to 
go  up  to  a  stranger  to  ask  a  question  we  are  tolerably 
sure  that  he  would  understand  us  and  answer  politely. 
We  have  cold  days  and  warm  ones,  but  the  sun  is  never 
too  hot  for  us  to  go  out  in  the  middle  of  the  day,  and  the 
cold  never  so  intense  as  to  freeze  our  noses  and  make 
them  fall  off.  The  houses  are  all  built  in  much  the  same 
way ;  people  dress  alike  and  look  alike.  Someone 
catches  me  up  there,  '*  Indeed  they  don't ;  some  are  pretty 
and  some  are  ugly  and  everyone  is  different  !  " 

Yes,  you  think  that  now,  but  wait  until  you  have 
travelled  a  bit,  and  seen  some  of  the  races  which  really 
are  different  from  ours,  then  you'll  think  that  not  only  are 
British  people  alike,  but  that  even  all  Europeans  are 
more  or  less  so. 

You  are  not  likely  to  travel  ?  Well,  I'm  not  so  sure  of 
that,  for  I'm  going  to  offer  to  take  you,  and,  what  is  more, 
you  need  not  bother  your  head  about  expenses,  and  we 
will  have  all  the  time  we  want.  I  am  going  to  carry  you 
away  with  me  in  this  book  to  see  the  marvels  of  other 
lands ;  lands  where  the  burning  sun  strikes  down  on  our 
own  countrymen  wearing  white  helmets  on  their  heads 


WHICH  WAY  ?  3 

and  suits  of  snowy  white  as  they  walk  about  amid  brown- 
skinned  natives  whose  bare  bodies  gleam  like  satin,  lands 
where  lines  of  palm  trees  wave  their  long  fronds  over  the 
pearly  surf  washing  at  their  roots.  We  will  visit  also 
other  lands  where  you  look  out  over  a  glowing  pink  and 
mauve  desert  to  seeming  infinity,  and  see  reflected  in 
bitter  shallow  water  at  your  feet  the  flames  of  such  a 
sunset  glory  as  you  never  yet  have  imagined.  Or  you  can 
ride  out  across  the  same  desert  lying  white  as  snow  be- 
neath a  moon  far  larger  and  more  glistening  than  any  you 
ever  see  here.  You  shall  watch  volcanoes  shooting  out 
columns  of  fire  which  roll  down  toward  the  villages  nestling 
in  their  vineyards  below,  and  you  shall  gaze  at  mountains 
which  raise  their  stately  heads  far  up  into  the  silent 
region  of  eternal  snow.  You  shall  see  the  steel-blue  waves 
rising  in  great  heaps  with  the  swell  of  an  unquiet 
sea.  You  shall  talk  to  the  mischievous  little  Burmese 
women  and  watch  them  kneeling  before  their  pagodas 
of  pure  gold,  and  shall  visit  the  little  Japs  making 
merry  in  their  paper  houses ;  you  shall  find  the  last 
representatives  of  the  grand  races  of  North  American 
Indians  in  their  wigwams.  And  these  are  only  a  very 
few  of  the  wonders  of  the  world. 

Where  shall  we  begin  ?  That  requires  some  considera- 
tion. As  the  world  is  not  a  solid  block  of  level  ground  we 
shall  have  to  choose  our  track  as  best  we  can  along  the 
routes  that  are  most  convenient,  and  we  can't  certainly 
go  right  round  in  one  straight  line  as  if  we  followed  a 
piece  of  string  tied  round  the  middle  of  the  earth.  Of 
course  we  shall  have  to  start  from  England,  and  we 
shall  be  wisest  to  turn  eastward  first,  coming  back  again 
from  the  west.  Tlie  eastern  part  is  the  Old  World, 
and  the  western  the  New  World,  of  which  the  existence 
was  not  known  until  centuries  later.  It  is  natural,  there- 
fore, to  begin  with  the  older   part    first.     If  we  do  this 


4    ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

we  must  start  in  the  autumn  so  as  to  arrive  at  some 
of  the  hottest  countries  in  what  is  their  winter,  for  tlie 
summer  is  unbearable  to  Europeans.  So  much  is  easily 
settled. 

Have  you  ever  realised  that  Great  Britain  is  an  island  ? 
I  hear  someone  say  "  Silly  !  "  under  their  breath  ;  it  does 
seem  an  absurd  question,  for  surely  every  baby  knows 
that !  Well,  of  course  even  the  smallest  children  have 
been  told  so,  directly  they  begin  to  learn  anything,  but  to 
realise  it  is  a  different  matter.  An  island  is  surrounded 
by  water,  and  none  of  us  have  ever  sailed  round  our  own 
country  and  made  the  experiment  of  seeing  for  ourselves 
that  it  is  so.  You  have  been  to  the  sea  certainly,  and  seen 
the  edge  of  our  island  home,  but  have  you  ever  thought 
of  that  long  line  which  runs  away  and  away  from  your 
seaside  place  ?  Have  you  followed  the  smooth  sandy 
bays  and  the  outlines  of  the  towering  cliffs ;  have  you 
passed  the  mouths  of  mighty  rivers  and  so  gone  steadily 
on  northward  to  the  bleak  coasts  of  Scotland  where  the 
waves  beat  on  granite  cliffs ;  have  you  rounded  stormy 
Cape  Wrath,  and  sailed  in  and  out  by  all  the  deep-cut 
inlets  on  the  west  of  Scotland,  and  thus  come  back  to  the 
very  place  from  whence  you  started  ?  If  you  can  even 
imagine  this  it  gives  you  some  idea  of  what  being  an  island 
means.  We  are  on  every  side  surrounded  by  water,  and 
nowhere  can  we  get  away  to  any  other  country  without 
crossing  the  sea. 

The  very  nearest  country  to  us  is  France,  and  at  the 
narrowest  point  of  the  Channel  there  are  only  twenty-one 
miles  of  sea  to  get  over.  One  way  of  starting  on  our  great 
enterprise  is  to  cross  this  little  strip  of  water  and  take  the 
train  across  France,  right  to  the  other  side,  there  to  meet  a 
ship  which  will  carry  us  onward.  Or  we  can  start  in  the 
same  way  across  the  Channel  but  go  much  farther  on  by 
train,  all  along  Italy  as  well  as  France,  and  then  we  can 


WHICH  WAY?  5 

catch  the  same  ship  a  considerable  way  farther  on  in  the 
Mediterranean. 

Or  there  is  another  way,  the  quickest  of  all,  and  the 
newest ;  by  this  means — after  crossing  the  Channel — 
we  can  go  the  whole  distance  across  Europe,  and  Asia  too, 
by  train,  and  come  out  on  the  other  side  of  the  world, 
near  China,  in  about  ten  days  !  To  do  this  we  should 
have  to  get  to  Russia  first  by  any  European  line  we 
pleased,  and  on  arriving  at  the  town  of  Moscow  change 
into  the  train  which  does  this  mighty  journey.  It  starts 
once  a  week,  and  is  called  The  International.  It  is  quite 
a  small  train,  though  the  engine  is  large.  There  are  only 
half  a  dozen  coaches,  and  one  of  these  is  for  luggage  and 
another  is  a  restaurant.  First-class  people  are  put  two 
together  into  a  compartment.  It  certainly  sounds  as  if 
that  would  allow  plenty  of  room,  but  then  if  anyone  has 
to  live  and  sleep  and  move  for  ten  days  in  a  train,  he  can 
hardly  be  expected  to  sit  cramped  up  all  the  time,  he  must 
have  some  space  to  stir  about  in.  At  night  one  of  the 
seats  forms  one  bed  and  another  is  let  down  crossways 
above  it.  There  is,  alas,  no  bath,  but  there  is  a  small 
lavatory  for  every  two  compartments  where  we  can  wash 
after  a  fashion.  There  are  even  books  provided  in  the 
restaurant  car,  some  in  Russian,  some  in  French,  some  in 
German,  and  some  in  English. 

The  journey  itself  is  not  very  interesting,  and  we  should 
be  glad  enough  to  get  to  the  end  of  it  I  fancy.  No,  I 
am  not  going  to  allow  you  to  take  me  that  way,  not  even 
if  you  begged  hard  !  It  is  very  useful  for  business  men, 
whose  one  idea  is  to  save  time,  but  for  us  who  want  to  see 
all  we  can  of  this  glorious  world  it  would  be  folly. 

On  the  contrarv,  the  route  I  should  like  to  take  is  the 
very  longest  of  all,  and  that  is  by  sea  the  whole  way,  on 
one  of  the  great  liners  running  east.  The  real  choice  lies 
between  this  and  the  railway  journey  across  France  to  the 


ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 


AT  CHARING  CROSS. 


seaport  of  Marseilles,  or  Toulon,  according  to  which  of  the 
great  British  lines  of  steamships  we  choose — ^the  Peninsula 
and  Oriental,  known  as  the  P.  &  O.,  or  the  Orient.  I  am 
willing  you  should  decide  between  these  routes.  Think 
well.  In  order  that  you  may  understand  better  what  the 
choice  means  I  will  tell  you  what  you  will  see  if  we  take 
the  railway  journey. 

We  shall  have  to  start  one  morning  from  Charing  Cross 
Station  in  London.  All  around  us  people  are  carrying 
bundles  of  rugs  and  magazines.  Some,  like  ourselves, 
are  going  far  east  and  they  are  parting  from  those  who 
love  them  and  will  not  see  them  again  for  a  long  time. 


WHICH  WAY?  7 

That  fair  young  man  standing  by  the  carriage  door  looks 
little  more  than  a  big  schoolboy,  but  he  is  going  out  to 
India  to  help  to  govern  there.  He  is  a  clever  fellow  and 
has  passed  a  very  stiff  examination  to  gain  this  position, 
and  he  eagerly  looks  forward  to  all  the  new  scenes  in  the 
life  awaiting  him.  His  charming  mother  and  sister  are 
seeing  him  off ;  they  are  so  much  alike  they  might  be 
mistaken  for  sisters  ;  they  are  trying  to  talk  and  joke 
lightly,  but  you  can  see  how  hungrily  the  mother's  eyes  are 
fastened  on  her  son,  as  if  she  could  never  see  him  enough. 
Rightly  too,  for  when  she  meets  him  again,  he  will  not  be 
the  boy  he  is  now.  His  face  will  be  browned  by  the 
tropical  sun,  and  he  will  have  become  a  man  ;  he  will 
have  an  air  of  command  which  comes  naturally  to  a  man 
who  lives,  often  by  himself,  in  charge  of  a  district,  and  has 
to  rule  and  judge  and  decide  for  the  dark-skinned  people. 

Close  beside  us  there  are  several  men  smoking  big 
cigars,  and  one  of  them  says  loudly,  "All  right,  old  chap, 
I'll  bring  one  back  for  you  next  week  ;  I  shall  cross  again 
on  Monday."  He  runs  over  to  Paris  on  business  every 
week  and  thinks  no  more  of  it  than  of  going  to  his  office 
in  the  morning.  A  trip  to  France  is  very  easy  when  you 
have  the  means  to  do  it  comfortably. 

Then  we  take  our  seats,  and  the  train  steams  out  of 
the  station,  leaving  the  crowd  on  the  platform  to  scatter. 
After  a  long  run,  with  no  stops,  we  reach  Dover  and  go  on 
board  a  steamer  which  seems  quite  large  enough  to  anyone 
who  is  not  used  to  steamers.  Our  heavy  luggage  has  been 
sent  on  board  the  big  ship  which  will  meet  us  at  Marseilles, 
so  we  have  only  our  handbags  to  carry.  The  crossing  is 
quite  short,  and  it  is  best  to  stay  on  deck  if  you  don't  want 
to  be  ill.  The  very  first  thing  to  notice,  as  we  gradually 
draw  away  from  the  land,  is  the  wliiteness  of  the  towering 
clialk  cHffs  which  stand  out  prominently  near  Dover. 
Often  you   must  have  read  of  the   "  wliite  cliffs  of  Old 


8 


ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 


Albion,"  and  if  you  live  in  the  north  or  away  from  the  sea, 
you  must  have  wondered  what  they  were  ;  now  this  explains 
it  all.  When  the  Romans  came  over  from  the  Continent 
they  crossed  the  sea  the  shortest  way,  and  in  approaching 
this  unknown  island  were  struck  with  astonishment  at  the 
high  gleaming  white  cliffs,  unlike  anything  they  had  seen 
before  ;    they  were  so  much  amazed  that  ever  after  the 

"  white  cliffs  "  were 
the  chief  feature  of 
Britain  in  their 
eyes. 

There  is  a  break 
in  the  cliffs,  where 
Dover  now  stands, 
and  here  the  Romans 
later  on  made  a  port, 
and  a  port  it  has 
remained  to  this 
day. 

If  we  are  lucky 
in  getting  a  fine  day 
for  the  crossing  we 
can  sit  on  deck- 
chairs,  looking  at  the 
dazzling  milky-blue 
sea    and    sky    until 

NUMBERS   OF   EAGER   LITTLE   PORTERS.  SOmCOUC      CriCS      OUt, 

"  There's  France  !  " 
You  will  not  be  able  to  make  out  anything  at  all  at 
first,  because  land  does  not  look  in  the  least  what  you 
expect  when  you  see  it  first  from  the  sea.  You  would 
naturally  search  for  a  long  dark  line  low  down  on  the 
horizon,  but  it  isn't  like  that  at  all.  There  is  a  hazy 
bluish  cloud,  very  indistinct,  and  seemingly  transparent, 
but  as  we  draw  nearer  it  grows  clearer,  and  then  houses  and 


?5 


WHICH  WAY?  9 

ships  can  be  discerned,  and  after  a  good  deal  of  manoeuvring 
and  shouting  and  throwing  of  ropes  and  churning  up  the 
water  w^ith  the  screw,  two  bridges  are  pushed  across  to 
the  dock,  and  numbers  of  eager  httle  porters,  dressed  in 
bright  blue  linen  suits  with  very  baggy  trousers,  surround 
us  and  implore  us  to  allow  them  to  carry  our  baggage. 

"  Me  Engleesh  speaking,  sir.' 

"  Good  me,  good  man  me.' 

"  Baggage  carrying  me." 

They  are  here,  there,  and  everywhere,  so  good-natured, 
so  lively,  so  different  from  the  stolid  English  porters. 
Their  eyes  are  very  bright  and  they  will  take  money  of  any 
kind,  French  or  English,  it  matters  not  to  them. 

We  have  had  to  get  our  money  changed  on  the  boat,  and 
that  is  the  first  thing  that  makes  us  feel  we  are  really  out 
of  England.  In  exchange  for  an  English  gold  pound  we 
get  tw^enty-five — not  twenty — French  shillings  ;  these 
shillings  are  called  francs  and  are  not  unlike  our  shillings  at 
a  first  glance,  but  they  are  thinner  and  lighter.  Some  have 
the  head  of  Napoleon,  the  last  French  Emperor,  on  them — 
these  are  old ;  the  latest  new  ones  are  rather  interesting, 
for  they  have  a  little  olive  branch  on  one  side  and  a 
graceful  figure  of  a  woman  sowing  seed  on  the  other,  so 
one  can  interpret  the  meaning  as  peace  and  plenty.  If 
you  change  a  franc  into  copper  you  get  ten — not  twelve — 
pennies  for  it,  and  French  pennies  look  very  much  like  those 
of  England.  There  are  also  half-franc  pieces  like  little 
sixpences,  and  two-franc  pieces  like  smaller  florins,  and 
gold  pounds  called  Louis  or  Napoleons,  and  half-sovereigns 
too,  but  all  the  money  seems  liglit  and  rather  unreal  when 
one  is  accustomed  to  our  more  solid  coins. 

We  walk  up  the  gangway  into  a  hirge  barn-Hkc  place, 
where  we  meet  some  smart-looking  men  in  uniform  with 
pointed  moustaches  turned  up  to  tlieir  eyes  and  a  fierce 
expression.     They  stand  behind  a  slicif,  on  whicli  all  the 


lO 


ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 


PASSING  THE  CUSTOMS. 


baggage  from  the  boat  is  put,  and  we  approach  this  with 
our  bags  in  our  hands. 

The  official  demands  in  French  if  we  have  anything  to 
declare,  meaning,  are  we  bringing  across  anything  which  it 
is  forbidden  to  sell  in  France,  such  as  brandy,  matches,  or 
cigarettes,  for  if  so  we  must  declare  it  and  pay  something 
to  the  Government  for  allowing  us  to  bring  it.  We  answer 
that  we  have  nothing.  "  Rien,  Monsieur,"  very  politely, 
hoping  to  soften  his  heart,  and  as  we  both  have  honest 
faces  he  believes  us  and  scrawls  a  chalk-mark  on  our  bags 
and  lets  us  pass.  We  are  lucky,  for  now  we  can  go  straight 
on  to  the  train  and  get  good  places  before  the  crowd 
follows.  Some  unfortunate  people,  however,  are  caught. 
One  woman  who  is  wearing  a  hat  with  enormous  feathers 
and  very  high-heeled  shoes,  has  two  huge  trunks. 

She  tries  to  slip  a  five-franc  piece  into  the  hand  of  one 
of  the  custom-house  officers.      It  is  a  silly  thing  to  do, 


WHICH  WAY?  II 

for  it  at  once  makes  him  think  she  is  conceahng  something  ; 
very  loudly  and  virtuously  he  refuses  the  money,  hoping 
that  everyone  notices  how  upright  he  is,  and  then  he 
insists  on  the  contents  of  her  trunks  being  turned  out 
on  to  the  counter.  Piles  of  beautiful  underclothing  are 
spread  out  before  all  those  men  ;  silk  and  satin  frocks 
come  next ;  numberless  dressing-table  ornaments  in 
silver  and  gold,  and  little  bottles  by  the  dozen  ;  boots 
and  shoes  and  books  follow,  while  Madame  begins  to 
weep  and  then  changes  to  screaming  and  raving.  She 
is  a  Frenchwoman  who  has  been  staying  in  England,  but 
she  did  not  escape  any  more  than  an  Englishwoman. 
How  she  will  ever  manage  to  get  all  her  finery  stuffed 
back  into  those  boxes  without  ruining  it  I  don't  know, 
and  we  haven't  time  to  wait  to  see. 

The  platform  is  very  low  and  the  train  looks  in  con- 
sequence much  larger  than  an  English  one,  as  we  have 
to  climb  up  into  it  almost  from  the  ground.  It  is  a 
corridor  train,  and  the  first  classes  are  lined  with  a  kind 
of  drab  cloth,  which  does  not  seem  so  suitable  for  railway 
work  as  our  dark  blue  colour.  The  guard  sets  us  off 
with  a  little  "  birr-r-r  "  like  a  toy  cock  crowing.  When 
we  move  out  of  the  station  at  last  we  find  ourselves  going 
at  a  snail's  pace  along  a  street,  and  at  once  we  catch  our 
breath  witli  interest — it  is  all  so  strange  !  Never  will  you 
forget  that  first  glimpse  of  a  foreign  land  !  The  very 
air  is  different,  with  a  sharp  pleasant  smell  of  wood-smoke 
in  it.  Some  people  say  that  every  foreign  country  has 
its  own  smell  and  that  they  would  know  where  they  were 
witli  their  eyes  shut !  Tliis  must  be  an  exaggeration, 
still  there  is  something  in  it  ! 

As  the  train  goes  slowly  forward  a  clanging  bell  rings 
on  the  engine  to  warn  the  people  to  get  off  the  lines,  which 
are  not  fenced  in  in  any  way.  On  every  side  you  see  neat 
little  women  wearing  no   hats,   with  their  luiir  done  up 


12 


ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 


in  top-knots  ;  they  are  out  marketing,  and  most  of  them 
carry  immense  baskets  or  string-bags  stuffed  with  cabbages 
and  carrots  and  other  vegetables.  The  children  are 
nearly  all  dark,  with  brown  skins  and  bright  black  eyes, 
and  they  look  thin  but  full  of  life.  The  boys  wear  a  long 
pinafore  or  overall  of  cheap  black  stuff,  and  even  the 
biggest  go  about  in  short  socks,  showing  their  bare  legs, 

which  looks  rather  babyish  to  us.  The 
sun  is  shining  brilliantly,  and  on  most  of 
the  pavements  there  are  chairs  set  out 
around  small  tables  where  men  in  perfectly 
amazingly  baggy  corduroy  trousers  and 
blue  blouses  sit  and  drink  variously 
coloured  drinks.  A  little  boy  who  w^as  too 
near  the  line  is  caught  away  by  his 
agitated  mother,  who  pours  out  over  him 
a  babble  of  words,  and  the  child,  laughing 
roguishly,  answers  her  as  volubly.  Not 
one  sentence,  not  one  word,  can  we 
understand,  though  we  are  quite  near  and 
can  hear  it  all.  When  you  remember 
the  painfully  slow  way  you  have  learnt 
avoir  and  etre  at  school  it  is  madden- 
ing to  think  that  this  child,  much  younger 
than  you,  can  rattle  away  in  French 
without  any  trouble,  and  it  is  still  more 
annoying  that  when  you  did  think  you  knew  a  little 
French  you  cannot  make  out  one  single  word  !  French 
spoken  is  so  very  different  from  French  learnt  out  of  a 
book  !  However,  for  your  comfort  you  must  remember 
that  that  little  bright-eyed  boy,  whose  name  is  probably 
Pierre  or  Jacques,  would  think  you  very  clever  indeed  to 
be  able  to  talk  in  English. 

The  houses  have  a  strange  look ;  it  is  chiefly  because 
every   single   one   of  them,    even  the   poorest,    has   sun- 


A   LITTLE  FRENCH 
BOY. 


WHICH  WAY?  i^, 

shutters  outside  the  windows,  set  back  against  the  wall ; 
they  are  of  wood,  mostly  painted  green  and  pierced  with 
slits.  In  countries  where  the  sun  is  hot  and  strong  at 
midday  the  rooms  must  be  kept  cool  by  such  shutters. 

When  we  are  once  clear  of  the  town  the  train  soon 
gets  up  great  speed,  and  we  race  through  green  fields  with 
hedgerows  and  trees  as  in  our  own  land,  and  yet  even 
here  there  is  something  different.  It  may  be  because 
of  the  long  lines  of  poplars,  like  "  Noah's  Ai-k  "  trees, 
which  appear  very  frequently,  or  it  may  be  the  country 
houses  we  see  here  and  there,  which  are  more  "  Noah's 
Ai'k  "  still,  being  built  very  stiffly  and  painted  in  bright 
reds  and  yellows  and  greens  that  look  like  streaks.  At 
the  level  crossings  you  see  women  standing  holding  a 
red  flag  furled,  for  women  seem  to  do  as  much  of  the  work 
on  the  railways  as  men  ;  and  waiting  at  the  gates  there 
is  often  a  team  of  three  or  four  horses,  each  decorated  with 
an  immense  sheep-skin  collar,  that  looks  as  if  it  must 
be  most  hot  and  uncomfortable.  Occasionally  we  catch 
sight  of  what  looks  like  a  rookery  in  the  trees  seen  against 
the  sky ;  however,  the  dark  bunches  are  not  nests  at  all, 
but  lumps  of  mistletoe  growing  freely.  Rather  a  fairy- 
tale sort  of  country  where  mistletoe  can  be  got  so 
easily  ! 

We  can  stay  all  night  in  Paris  if  we  like,  and  travel 
the  next  day  to  Marseilles,  and  stay  a  night  there  too. 
That  is  doing  the  journey  easily.  Many  people  go  riglit 
through,  running  round  Paris  in  a  special  train  and  being 
carried  speeding  through  France  all  night.  There  are 
sleeping  cars  made  up  like  little  cabins  with  beds  in 
them  and  every  luxury.  But  it  is  tiring  to  travel  on 
continuously  in  a  French  train,  as  the  carriages  arc  made 
very  hot  by  steam,  and  French  people  object  to  having 
the  windows  open  at  all,  so  the  atmosphere  gets  almost 
unbearable,  according  to  our  ideas. 


14    ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

We  shan't  have  time  to  see  much  of  Paris  if  we  just 
stay  the  night  there,  but  as  we  drive  through  in  a  taxi-cab 
we  can  see  how  full  of  life  it  is,  though  at  this  time  of  the 
year  people  do  not  sit  out  at  the  little  tables  on  the 
pavements  late  in  the  evening  as  they  do  in  the  summer. 
There  are  taxi-cabs  everywhere,  and  they  all  pass  each 
other  on  the  right  side,  you  notice,  the  opposite  side  from 
that  which  we  use  ;  you  will  find  this  in  all  other  foreign 
countries  but  Sweden,  and  in  some  Provinces  of  Austria. 
Though  Great  Britain  stands  almost  alone,  in  this  case 
she  is  certainly  in  the  right,  for  the  driver  ought  to  be 
on  the  side  near  the  vehicle  he  is  passing,  and  also  the 
whip  coming  in  the  middle  of  the  street  is  less  liable  to 
flick  anyone  than  if  it  was  on  the  pavement  side. 

The  hotels  in  Paris  are  many  and  magnificent ;  when 
we  arrive    at  one  all  gilt  and  glitter,  we  ask  for  small 
rooms,  as  it  is  only  for  one  night,  and  are  taken  up  to  two 
tiny  apartments    simply  crammed  with  furniture.     It  is 
enough  to  make  anyone  laugh,  for  there  is  hardly  room  to 
turn  round.     Both  are  alike.     In  each  the  bed  is  covered 
with  a  magnificent  yellow  satin  brocade  coverlet ;  there  is 
a  large  arm-chair,  which  quite  prevents  the  door  of  the 
huge  wardrobe  from  opening.     The  washing-stand,  which 
has  taps  of  hot  and  cold  water,  is  crammed  into  a  corner 
so  that  one  can  hardly  get  at  it.     There  is  a  writing-table 
with  ink  and  blotting-pad  and  everything  else  for  writing, 
but  no  dressing-table  and  nowhere  at  all  to  put  one's 
brushes.     Above   the   mantelpiece   is   a   big   mirror,    too 
high  for  you  to  look  into,  though  I  can  peer  round  that 
immense  gilt  clock  to  do  my  shaving.     The  rest  of  the 
mantelpiece  is  taken  up  with  heavy  marble  ornaments — 
utterly  useless^ — and  gilt  candlesticks.     There  is  a  telephone 
on  the  wall,  and  down  this  we  can  give  our  orders  into  the 
hall.     Luckily  I  know  enough  French  to  ask  for  what  we 
want,  though  if  you  stand  giggling  at  me  every  word  will 


WHICH  WAY?  15 

go   out   of  my  head   when  the   man  below  inquires   my 
wishes. 

It  is  by  means  of  this  telephone  I  order  breakfast  for 
us  both  to  be  sent  up  next  morning.  All  we  can  get  is 
coffee,  or  tea,  with  rolls  and  butter  and  two  poached  or 
boiled  eggs.  You'll  have  to  make  this  do.  It  is  the 
custom  here.  In  France  people  start  with  only  coffee 
and  rolls  and  then  go  off  and  do  a  good  morning's  work,  and 
come  back  again  to  eat  a  large  meal  which  is  a  sort  of 
breakfast  and  lunch  rolled  into  one,  at  about  twelve 
o'clock.  It  all  depends  on  what  one  is  accustomed  to, 
and  certainly  we  look  very  hungrily  at  the  small  dish  of 
eggs  that  appears  ! 

Meantime  I  am  getting  a  little  anxious  about  my 
boots.  I  put  them  out  last  night  to  be  cleaned,  but  this  is 
such  a  large  place,  with  so  many  people  coming  and  going, 
that  I  began  to  wonder  if  they  have  been  taken  to  the 
wrong  room  ;  timidly  I  ask  the  waiter,  who  brings  the 
breakfast,  if  he  can  find  them.  With  a  knowing  smile 
he  stoops  down  and  opens  a  tiny  cupboard  in  the  wall 
near  the  door,  and  there,  slipped  in  from  outside,  are  the 
boots  !  "  Voila  !  "  he  says  triumphantly,  as  if  he  had  just 
brought  off  a  successful  conjuring  trick.  Certainly  what 
with  the  taps  and  telephone  and  trap-doors  for  boots  this 
hotel  is  very  much  up  to  date. 

North  of  Paris  we  have  seen  orchards  of  apple  and 
cherry  trees,  but  farther  south,  as  we  rush  along,  we  get 
into  a  land  of  vineyards,  where  rows  of  little  vines  are 
being  cultivated  on  every  foot  of  ground  on  the  hillsides. 
By  nightfall  we  reach  Marseilles,  and  if  we  were  going  on 
to  Toulon  it  would  have  taken  two  hours  more. 

Marseilles  is  the  largest  seaport  in  France,  and  is 
second  only  to  Paris  in  size  and  importance. 

Do  you  know  those  preserved  fruits  whicli  generally 
appear  about    Christmas-time  in  oval  cardboard  or  long 


1 6    ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

wooden  boxes  ?  Have  you  ever  wondered  if  they  are 
real  fruit,  and  where  they  come  from  ?  They  are  real 
fruit,  boiled  and  dipped  in  syrup,  though  they  taste 
very  different  from  the  same  fruit  freshly  gathered. 
A  great  deal  of  the  preserving  is  done  in  France,  especially 
along  the  south  coast,  and  when  we  get  to  Marseilles  we 
are  in  the  very  heart  of  the  business. 

After  passing  the  night  in  an  hotel  we  have  time  to 
wander  about  a  bit  before  going  down  to  the  docks  to  find 
our  ship. 

The  sun  is  shining  brightly  as  we  turn  out  after  an- 
other breakfast,  which  only  seems  to  have  given  an  edge 
to  our  keen  British  appetites.  There  is  a  nasty  cold  wind 
blowing  round  corners  and  buffeting  people.  The  pave- 
ments are  very  lively;  we  see  women  and  girls  hurrying 
about  doing  household  shopping,  and  boys  in  heavy  cloth 
capes  and  military  caps,  so  that  they  look  like  cadets,  this 
is  the  uniform  worn  by  better-class  schoolboys  in  France. 
The  French  policemen,  called  gendarmes,  are  also  in 
uniform  of  so  military  a  kind  that  unless  we  knew  we 
should  certainly  mistake  them  for  soldiers. 

There  are  stalls  set  out  on  the  pavements,  heaped  up 
with  embroidery  and  odds  and  ends,  including  soap, 
which  is  manufactured  here  very  largely.  Bright-eyed 
girls  try  to  entice  us  to  buy  as  we  pass.  One  street  is 
just  like  a  flower  garden,  lined  with  stalls  piled  up  with 
violets  and  roses  and  anemones  and  other  blossoms. 
Trams  follow  one  another  along  the  rails  in  an  endless 
procession.  We  walk  on  briskly  and  turn  down  a  side 
street  ;  here  at  last  is  what  I  have  been  looking  for, 
and  well  worth  finding  it  is  too  !  It  is  a  shop  with 
great  plate-glass  windows ;  on  one  side  is  every  kind 
of  preserved  fruit,  and  on  the  other  a  variety  of  choco- 
lates, tarts,  and  expensive  sweets.  Look  at  that  dainty 
box    filled    with    dark  green   figs,  artistically   set   off  by 


WHICH  WAY? 


17 


sugared  violets  pressed  into  all  the  niches  !  These  are 
rather  different  from  the  flat,  dry  brown  figs  which  is  all 
that  English  children  recognise  under  that  name.  Another 
box  glows  with  tiny  oranges,  mandarins  they  call  them 
here,  and  piled  up  over  them  are  richly  coloured 
cherries  shining  with  sugar  crystals.  In  the  centre  is 
an  enormous  fruit  like  a  dark  orange-coloured  melon,  sur- 
rounded by  heaps  of  others,  while 
the  plain  bro^vn  chestnuts,  that  don't 
attract  much  notice,  are  really  the 
best  of  all,  for  they  are  the  marrons 
glaces  for  which  Marseilles  is  famed, 
and  once  you  have  tasted  these, 
freshly  made,  all  other  sweets  will 
seem  insipid  to  you. 

Inside  the  shop  there  are  many 
carefully  dressed  ladies,  daintily 
holding  little  plates,  and  going  about 
from  one  counter  to  another,  picking 
up  little  cakes  filled  with  cream  and 
soaked  in  syrup.  They  eat  scores  of 
them,  and  they  do  it  every  day  and 
any  hour  of  the  day,  in  the  morning 
or  afternoon  or  whenever  they  happen 
to  pass.  No  wonder  they  look  pasty- 
faced  !  We  are  only  here  for  once,  so 
we  need  have  no  compunction  about  ^he  french  policeman. 
our  digestions,  especially  as  there  is  an  empty  place  left 
after  that  tantalising  bacon-less  breakfast.  We  are  soon 
provided  with  a  plate  each  and  a  little  implement  which 
looks  as  if  it  had  started  life  as  a  butter-knife  and  suddenly 
changed  its  mind  to  become  a  fork. 

The  shop-girls  take  no  notice  of  what  we  eat ;  we  can 
pick  and  choose  freely,  and  at  the  end  they  trust  us  to  say 
how  many  cakes  we  have  had.     We  can  get  here  also  cups 


1 8    ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

of  thick  rich  chocolate,  and,  if  we  wanted  it,  some  tea, 
though  it  is  only  of  late  years  that  French  people  have 
taken  to  drinking  tea  at  all  freely,  for  coffee  is  their 
national  beverage. 

Well,  come  along,  tear  yourself  away,  we  must  get  a 
cab  and  go  down  to  our  ship  which  is  at  the  docks. 

In  the  cab  we  pass  what  is  called  the  Old  Port  with 
picturesque  rows  of  weather-beaten  sailing  boats  ;  only 
the  sailing  boats  are  allowed  to  come  in  here.  Rising  up 
against  the  sky  at  the  far  end  of  the  port  is  a  curious  bridge 
quite  unlike  any  other  you  have  seen,  for  the  bridge  part 
is  at  a  great  height  and  there  is  nothing  below  by  which 
people  or  vehicles  can  cross  over.  How  is  anyone  going 
to  take  the  trouble  to  climb  up  there  ?  How,  above  all, 
are  carts  or  carriages  going  to  manage  it  ? 

You  can  easily  make  a  rough  model  to  see  the  principle 
of  this  bridge  for  yourself.  Get  a  couple  of  the  tallest 
candlesticks  in  the  house,  and  put  a  stick  across  them, 
run  a  curtain  ring  on  to  the  stick,  and  to  the  ring  attach 
numerous  threads  fastened  at  the  lower  end  to  a  flat  bit 
of  card  or  board  like  a  raft.  Then,  by  pushing  the  ring 
along  the  stick,  you  can  make  the  raft  follow  across  below. 
The  stick  represents  the  high  bridge,  and  the  raft  in  reality 
rests  on  the  surface  of  the  water,  and  when  the  machinery 
above,  represented  by  the  ring,  is  set  in  motion,  it  rumbles 
across  and  draws  with  it  the  floating  raft,  which  is  large 
enough  to  take  a  great  number  of  men  and  vehicles. 
Every  ten  minutes  or  so  this  floating  bridge  passes  over 
from  one  side  to  another,  and  people  pay  a  sou,  which  is  the 
French  halfpenny,  to  travel  with  it.  Thus,  you  see,  when 
a  tall  ship  comes  in  she  has  only  to  avoid  the  raft,  and  she 
can  sail  in  beneath  the  high  bridge  without  any  trouble. 
We  could,  if  we  wished,  go  up  in  a  lift  to  the  high  bridge ; 
but  the  railings  up  there  are  far  apart,  and  there  is  a  high 
wind  blowing,  you  are  not  very  big,  and  if  you  slipped 


WHICH  WAY?  19 

between  I  should  have  to  give  up  my  voyage  round  the 
world ;  so  I  think  we  won't,  if  you  don't  mind  ! 

Besides,  we  have  to  catch  our  ship  waiting  at  the  docks, 
and  she  will  be  off  very  soon. 

Now  that  you  have  heard  what  we  should  probably 
do  and  see  if  we  went  across  France,  will  you  take  this 
journey  or  will  you  start  from  England  and  go  right  round 
in  the  ship  ? 

You  answer  that  though  you  would  like  to  see  the  little 
blue-bloused  porters,  and  that  it  would  amuse  you  to  think 
that  the  little  French  boys  and  girls  could  speak  no 
English,  and  though  you  would  certainly  love  the  marrons 
glaces,  you  think,  after  all,  having  heard  about  it,  we  might 
just  as  well  go  the  other  way  round,  though,  of  course — 
the  marrons  glaces 

Sensible  boy  !  Forget  about  them  !  We'll  go  round. 
In  the  very  next  chapter  we'll  be  up  and  off  in  earnest. 


OUR  OWN  POWERFUL  AND   UGLY   IRONCLADS,   LIKE   BULLDOGS   GUARDING 

THE   FORT. 


CHAPTER   II 


REALLY    OFF ! 


It  is  exciting  to  start  on  any  journey,  even  if  it  is  only 
one  we  have  done  before,  but  to  go  off  round  the  world 
that  is  a  real  adventure  ! 

There  are  many  lines  of  steamers  we  could  choose  to 
go  by,  but  we  will  select  for  this  first  part  of  the  journey 
the  Orient  Line.  The  choice  really  lies  between  that  and 
the  P.  &  O.,  as  we  have  already  decided,  and  for  many 
reasons  it  is  best  to  begin  with  the  Orient  and  join  the  other 
later.  The  main  reason  being  that  I  want  you  to  see  a 
little  of  as  many  European  countries  as  possible,  and  the 
Orient  ships  stop  at  Naples,  in  Italy,  while  those  of  the  other 
line  do  not. 

The  ships  in  the  Orient  fleet  all  begin  with  an  O  ;  there 
are  the  Otranto,  Otway,  and  many  more,  but  the  boat 
which  suits  us  and  happens  to  sail  on  the  date  we  want  to 
start — in  the  beginning  of  November — is  the  Orontes.  She 
is  not  the  largest  ship  in  the  fleet,  having  about  half  a 
dozen  before  her  on  the  list,  but  she  is  a  good  ship  and  very 
steady. 

Our  jumping-off  place   is   London,   whence  a   special 


REALLY  OFF! 


21 


train  runs  from  the  station  of  St.  Pancras  down  to  the 
docks  at  Tilbury,  where  the  Orontes  is  waiting  for  us. 
The  long  platform  beside  the  train  is  covered  with  people 
when  we  arrive  there,  so  that  we  have  some  difficulty 
in  finding  seats.  If  all  these  people  were  coming  with 
us  we  should  have  a  full  ship  indeed,  but  the  one  half  of 
them  is  only  seeing  the  other  half  off  ! 

The  line  passes  through  dreary  flat  country,  and  at  last 
we  catch  sight  of  open  water  and  funnels  and  feel  as  if  we 


THE   ORONTES. 

must  be  right  down  at  the  Thames'  mouth,  but  we  are  very 
far  from  that  vet. 

The  heavy  luggage  has  all  been  sent  on  ahead,  and 
passengers  are  told  only  to  bring  with  them  wliat  can  be 
carried  in  the  hand ;  judging  from  the  piles  of  boxes  that 
are  tumbled  out  of  the  train  many  of  them  must  have 
tolerably  large  hands  ! 

We  pass  through  a  great  shed,  and  coming  out  on  the 
other  side  find  our  sliip  there,  right  up  against  the  dock  side. 
It  towers  above  us,  blocking  out  the  sky  as  a  street  of  six- 
storey  houses  would  do.  In  fact,  it  is  rather  like  looking 
up  at  a  street  side,  and  wlien  we  see  the  sloping  ladder 


22 


ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 


leading  to  the  deck,  like  those  used  for  hen-roosts  but  on  a 
giant  scale,  we  feel  our  adventure  is  well  begun.  Hang  on 
to  the  hand-rail,  for  the  wind  is  blowing  hard,  and  if  you 
went  down  into  the  black  dirty  water  between  the  ship  and 
the  dock  there  would  be  very  little  chance  of  getting  you 
out  again  ;  even  as  we  climb  up  something  flicks  past  us 
and  is  carried  away,  and  we  see  it  floating  far  below  ;    it 

is  an  enormous  white  hand- 
kerchief which  the  man  up 
there  on  deck  has  been 
waving  to  his  wife  in  fare- 
well. It  is  gone,  and  it  is  to 
be  hoped  he  has  another 
handy,  he'll  need  it  to-day. 
At  the  top  of  the  ladder  a 
man  in  uniform  looks  at  our 
ticket  and  calls  out  the 
number  of  our  cabin.  He  is 
so  smart  and  has  such  a 
dignified  manner  we  might 
well  mistake  him  for  the 
captain,  but  he  is  an  officer, 
called  the  purser,  who  looks 
after  the  passengers.  A 
bright  -  faced  steward,  un- 
mistakably English,  takes 
possession  of  us  and  pilots 
us  down  some  well-carpeted 
stairs,  through  a  large  room  where  small  tables  are  laid  for 
lunch,  and  into  a  very  long  narrow  passage  shining  with 
white  enamel  paint.  There  are  little  doors  with  numbers 
on  them  on  one  side,  and  about  half-way  along  the  steward 
stops  and  ushers  us  into  our  cabin.  It  is  a  tiny  room.  If 
you  lay  down  from  side  to  side  you  could  touch  each  wall 
with  head  and  heels,  and  if  I  lay  down  from  end  to  end  I 


A  STEWARD. 


REALLY  OFF!  23 

could  do  the  same,  and  I  am  rather  bigger  than  you  I 
There  are  two  shelves,  one  above  the  other,  made  up  as 
beds,  a  piece  of  furniture  with  drawers  and  a  looking-glass 
in  it,  a  fixed  basin  such  as  those  you  see  in  bathrooms,  and 
a  few  pegs  to  hang  things  on,  and  that  is  all.  Our  cabin 
trunks,  which  we  sent  on  ahead,  are  here  before  us,  and 
through  the  open  round  port-hole  we  catch  a  glimpse  of 
grey  water.  We  are  lucky  indeed  to  get  a  cabin  to  our- 
selves, for  in  many,  not  a  bit  larger  than  this,  there  would 
be  a  third  bunk  or  bed,  and  a  stranger  would  be  forced  in  on 
us.  When  we  have  settled  our  things  you  will  be  surprised 
to  find  how  comfortable  it  all  is,  for  everything  is  so  con- 
veniently arranged.  It  is  just  as  well  to  put  out  what  we 
shall  want  at  once  while  the  ship  is  steady,  for  once  she 
begins  to  roll 

When  we  have  done  this  we  go  back  to  the  saloon, 
encountering  many  people  rushing  wildly  to  and  fro  with 
])ags  and  bundles,  still  unable  to  find  their  cabins,  having 
come  on  at  the  last  minute.  In  the  great  saloon,  those 
who  are  going  ashore  are  hastily  swallowing  cups  of  hot 
tea,  and  just  as  we  arrive  a  bell  rings  to  warn  them  to  get 
off  the  ship  if  they  don't  want  to  be  carried  away  with  her. 

They  flock  down  the  gangway  while  we  stand  high 
above,  and  many  good-byes  are  shouted,  and  some  are 
tearful  and  some  are  quite  casual  and  cheerful.  Then  the 
gangway  is  moved,  but  just  before  it  goes  down  with  a  run 
there  is  a  shout,  and  two  policemen  hurry  along  the  quay 
hauling  two  shamefaced-looking  men  who  are  hustled  up 
into  the  ship  again.  They  are  stokers  who  fire  the 
furnaces  for  the  engines  far  down  below  in  the  bowels  of 
the  ship.  Tliey  had  signed  on  for  this  voyage  and  at  the 
last  minute  tried  to  slink  away,  but  have  been  caught  and 
forced  back  to  their  work. 

Now  the  strip  of  water  widens  and  very  slowly  we  move 
from  the   quay,   being   dragged   ignominiously   l^ackward 


24        ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

across  the  great  basin  in  which  we  lie  by  a  diminutive 
steamer  called  a  tug.  We  are  not  out  in  the  river  yet  and 
our  own  engines  have  not  begun  to  work.  You  can  under- 
stand that  it  would  be  very  difficult  to  load  a  ship  if  she 
stood  always  in  the  river,  where  there  are  rising  and  falling 
tides,  so,  to  make  this  easier,  great  docks  have  been  built 
along  the  river,  and  in  them  the  flow  of  the  tides  is  regu- 
lated, so  that  the  water  remains  always  at  pretty  much  the 
same  level. 

The  tug  that  pulls  us  across  the  dock  on  our  way  out 
looks  absurdly  small,  like  a  little  Spitz  dog  pulling  a  great 
deerhound  ;  but  it  does  its  work  well,  and  presently  we 
glide  into  a  narrow  cut  between  high  walls  ;  this  is  the  lock, 
the  entrance  to  the  dock,  and  the  water  is  held  up  by  great 
gates  at  each  end  as  required,  just  as  it  is  on  river  locks  for 
boats.  Once  we  are  inside  the  great  gates  behind  us  are 
shut,  and  presently  those  at  the  farther  end  open  and  we 
see  two  other  little  tugs  waiting  there  to  take  us  in  charge. 
We  are  going  out  at  the  top  of  the  tide,  and  if  we  missed  it 
should  have  to  wait  for  another  twelve  hours,  or  there  would 
not  be  sufficient  water  in  the  river  to  float  the  ship  com- 
fortably. We  are  still  stern  first,  so  if  we  want  to  see  the 
fun  we  must  climb  up  to  the  top  deck  at  that  end.  The 
wind  is  blowing  a  perfect  gale  and  almost  drives  us  off  our 
feet ;  it  catches  the  side  of  the  ship  and  makes  it  far  harder 
work  for  the  gallant  grimy  tugs,  which  are  pulling  and 
straining  at  the  taut  ropes  till  they  look  like  bars  of  iron 
lying  between  us  and  them.  They  churn  the  water  to  a 
fury,  and  pour  forth  volumes  of  black  smoke  ;  inch  by 
inch  we  feel  the  ship  moving  out  ;  her  stern  is  dragged  up- 
stream, so  that  when  she  is  finally  swung  clear,  her  bows 
are  pointing  seaward  and  she  is  ready  to  go.  It  is  an 
exciting  moment  when  the  ropes  are  cast  off,  and  there  is 
a  great  deal  of  running  about  and  shouting,  and  then  our 
own  engines  begin  gently  but  powerfully  to  do  their  work. 


SHE   IS   ON   THE    POINT   OF    LEAVING    HER    COUNTRY,    I'KRIIAI'S    FOR    EVER. 


REALLY  OFF! 


25 


The  screws  beneath  the  stern  revolve  and  we  have  started 
on  our  long,  long  voyage  ! 

There  are  no  waves  in  the  river  ;  only  those  who  are 
very  nervous  will  think  about  being  ill  yet  awhile,  and 
this  is  a  good  chance  to  examine  tlie  great  ship  which 
is  to  be  our  home  for  some  time. 

There  is  plenty  of  room  to  walk  about  on  the  decks 
or  to  play  games  when  we 
reach  a  more  summer-like 
climate.  There  are  many 
rooms  where  we  can  shelter 
in  the  wet  and  cold  weather, 
a  great  lounge  with  wTiting- 
tables,  and  a  smoking-room 
— and  there  is  no  house  on 
eartli  kept  so  spotlessly  clean 
as  a  ship  ! 

When  we  go  down  to 
dinner  we  sit  on  chairs  that 
swing  round  like  office  chairs, 
only  they  are  fixed  into  the 
floor,  and  as  they  only 
swing  one  way,  there  are 
some  funny  scenes  till  people 
get  ased  to  them.  We  have 
hardly  taken  our  seats  when 
a  very  magnificent  man  with 
a  white  waistcoat  and  gold  shoulder  straps  and  much 
gold  lace  on  his  uniform  comes  and  sits  down  too,  and 
smiles  and  bows  to  everyone.  This  is  the  captain,  and 
we  must  be  more  distinguished  tlian  we  guessed,  for  we 
have  been  put  at  his  table,  where  the  honoured  passengers 
usually  find  seats.  Tliough  this  captain  lias  sucli  a 
kindly  smile,  a  captain  can  be  very  terrifying  indeed  ; 
he  is  king  in  his  sliip,  and  has  absolute  authority  ;    his 


THE   CAPTAIN. 


26         ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

word  is  law,  as,  of  course,  it  must  be,  for  the  safety  of  the 
whole  ship's  company  depends  on  him,  and  there  is  the 
fine  tradition,  which  British  captains  always  live  up  to, 
that  in  case  of  any  accident  happening  to  the  ship  the 
captain  must  be  the  last  man  to  quit  her.  Innumerable 
Captains  indeed  have  preferred  to  go  down  into  the  un- 
fathomable depths  with  their  ships  sooner  than  leave 
them  when  they  have  been  wrecked. 

For  several  days  there  are  very  few  people  to  be  seen 
about,  and  the  rows  of  empty  chairs  at  the  table  and  on 
deck  are  rather  depressing,  but  as  the  weather  brightens 
a  little  people  creep  out  of  their  cabins  ;  white-faced 
ladies  come  to  lie,  rolled  in  rugs,  on  the  sheltered  side  of 
the  deck,  and  the  chairs  are  filled.  Yet  it  is  still  a  little 
dismal,  though  we  tramp  sturdily  up  and  down  and  would 
not  admit  it  for  the  world.  The  strong  wind  blows 
endlessly  and  the  great  grey  waves  are  always  rolling  on 
monotonously  one  after  another,  one  after  another,  in 
huge  hillocks.  So  we  plough  down  the  English  Channel 
and  across  the  Bay  of  Biscay,  which  is  no  rougher  than 
anywhere  else,  though  people  ask  with  bated  breath, 
"  When  shall  we  be  in  the  Bay  ?  "  "  Are  we  through 
the  Bay  yet  ?  "  as  if  there  was  no  other  bay  in  all  the 
world. 

Then  comes  a  day  when  all  at  once  everyone  on  board 
seems  to  wake  up  and  become  alive  again.  The  sun 
shines  in  patches  along  the  decks  and  the  sea  is  blue  and 
sparkling.  We  are  passing  close  beside  a  steep  and  rocky 
coast,  and  so  near  do  we  go  that  we  can  see  the  white 
waves  dashing  against  it  and  even  spouting  up  in  sheets 
of  spray  through  blow-holes  in  the  cliffs.  What  we  see 
is  the  coast  of  Spain,  so  we  have  set  eyes  for  the  first 
time  on  another  country  than  our  own.  There  are  many 
other  steamers  in  this  stretch  of  water,  some  small  and 
some  as  large  as  ours,  some  coming  and  some  going.     It  is 


REALLY  OFF!  27 

all  much  more  lively  than  it  was.  Soon  we  have  pointed 
out  to  us  the  place  where  the  battle  of  Trafalgar  was 
fought,  when  Britain  w^on  a  victory  that  assured  her  the 
dominion  of  the  seas  up  to  the  present  time — a  battle  in 
which  our  greatest  sailor,  Lord  Nelson,  was  killed  in  the 
moment  of  victorv  ! 

It  is  the  next  morning  after  this  that,  when  we  wake 
up,  we  find  that  the  tossing  and  rocking  motion  has  ceased  ; 
it  is  curiously  quiet,  the  iron  plates  that  bind  the  ship 
together  no  longer  creak  and  groan  as  if  they  were  in 
agony.  We  are  bewildered.  Then  in  a  moment  the 
meaning  of  all  this  flashes  upon  us.  We  have  reached 
Gibraltar  ! 

Coming  up  on  deck  we  find  the  scene  glorious.  The 
sun  is  shining  out  of  a  cloudless  sky  on  to  a  sea  so  blue 
that  it  gives  one  a  sort  of  pleasant  pain  to  look  at  its 
loveliness.  The  air  is  brilliant,  as  if  we  were  living  at  the 
heart  of  a  crystal.  The  ship  is  stealing  along  so  silently 
and  gently  she  hardly  seems  to  move,  and  then  she  comes 
to  anchor  in  a  bay  that  seems  to  be  surrounded  on  all 
sides  with  hills.  Some  of  these  hills,  lying  rather  far  away, 
gleam  white  in  the  sunshine  ;  tliey  are  part  of  the  great 
continent  of  Africa,  and  so,  though  it  is  only  in  the  distance, 
we  have  set  eyes  on  our  first  new  continent.  Towering 
up  before  us,  with  mighty  bulk,  is  an  immense  rock,  rising 
bald  and  rather  aw  ful  into  the  pure  sky.  Near  the  summit 
its  sides  are  completely  bare,  seamed  by  great  gashes, 
and  broken  by  masses  of  rock  that  look  as  if  tliey  might 
crash  down  at  any  moment.  Apes  live  up  there,  wild 
miscliievous  creatures,  who  descend  to  steal  from  the 
orchards  below,  but  are  so  shy  that  they  are  hardly  ever 
seen  of  men.  They  are  of  a  kind  called  Barbary  apes,  only 
found  elsewhere  in  Africa ;  and  it  is  thought  that  perhaps, 
many  ages  ago,  Europe  was  joined  to  Africa  at  tliis 
point,  and  that  when  a  great  convulsion  occurred  wliich 


28 


ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 


broke  the  two  asunder  and  let  the  water  flow  through 
the  Straits  of  Gibraltar  some  of  the  apes  may  have  been 
left  on  this  side,  where  their  descendants  still  are,  sundered 
for  ever  from  their  kinsfolk  by  the  strip  of  sea. 

About  the  base  of  the  rock  is  a  little  town  running  up 
the  hill  and  brightened  by  many  trees — ^this  is  Gibraltar 
itself,  one  of  the  most  famous  places  in  the  world.  For 
this  alone  it  is  well  worth  while  to  come  round  by  sea. 

Anyone  can  see  at  a  glance  why  it  is  so  important. 
That  little  strait,  about  a  dozen  miles  across,  is  the  only 

natural  entrance 
by  water  into  the 
Mediterranean 
Sea,  which  lies 
all  along  the 
south  of  Europe. 
At  the  other  end 
men  have  had  to 
cut  a  wav  out  bv 
means  of  a  canal. 
If  ever  European 
nations  were  at 
war,  the  nation 
which  held  Gib- 
raltar would  be 
able  to  prevent  the  ships  of  other  countries  from  getting 
into  or  coming  out  of  the  Mediterranean.  It  could 
smash  them  with  big  guns  if  they  tried,  or  blow  them 
up.  So  that  even  if  the  country  on  each  side  were  flat 
this  would  still  be  an  important  place ;  but  nature  has 
made  here  a  precipitous  rock,  which  is  a  natural  fortress, 
and  by  great  good  luck  this  belongs,  not  to  the  country 
of  Spain,  of  which  it  is  the  southern  part,  but  to  Great 
Britain.  To  find  out  how  this  is  so  you  must  go  to 
history.     Gibraltar  has   been   held  by  Britain  for  many 


A  BARBARY   APE. 


REALLY  OFF!  29 

years  now,  and  though  the  King  of  Spain  is  very 
friendly  with  Britain,  and  has  married  an  EngHsh  princess, 
I  think  he  must  sometimes  feel  a  little  sore  over 
Gibraltar. 

Lying  in  a  basin  on  one  side  of  us  are  some  of  our 
own  powerful  and  ugly  ironclads,  like  bulldogs  guarding 
the  fort,  and  on  the  other  side  are  ships  of  all  nations, 
come  on  peaceful  trading  errands  or  for  pleasure  cruises, 
including  a  dainty  little  white  French  yacht  that  looks 
like  a  butterfly  which  has  just  alighted. 

We  go  ashore  in  a  launch  and  are  met  on  the  quay  by 
a  medley  of  strange  folk  and  a  great  clamour  of  voices  ! 
The  men  and  women  are  nearly  all  dark  skinned  and 
black  eyed,  and  yet  they  are  all  speaking  English  after 
a  fashion.  A  woman  offers  us  a  curiously  twisted  open- 
work basket  of  oranges,  with  the  deep-coloured  fruit 
gleaming  through  the  meshes,  a  man  implores  us  to  take 
some  of  the  absurdly  neat  little  nosegays  he  has  made 
up,  picture  postcards  are  thrust  under  our  noses,  and 
cabmen  wildly  beseech  us  to  patronise  their  open  vehicles. 
It  is  a  brilliant  scene,  full  of  life  and  colour  and  warmth, 
and  the  people  all  seem  good-humoured  and  jolly. 

Sitting  huddled  up  against  a  wall,  with  some  odd- 
looking  bundles  beside  them,  are  a  group  of  very  poor 
people ;  they  are  emigrants  about  to  leave  their  own 
country  for  South  America.  Out  there  in  the  bay  is  the 
emigrant  ship,  and  dipping  toward  her  over  the  open  water 
are  several  boats  loaded  down  to  the  gunwale  going  out ; 
others  have  reached  her  side  and  the  people  swarm  up 
Hke  flies.  This  group  on  the  quay  are  awaiting  their 
turn.  A  small  boy  and  girl  are  rolling  about  in  the 
sun  like  little  lizards  and  laughing  gaily.  The  little  girl 
is  called  Maria  and  is  about  ten  years  old  ;  she  has  a  tiny 
scarlet  shawl  pinned  across  her  chest,  and  licr  briglit 
black  hair  shines  in  the  sunlight ;  in  her  wee  brown  ears 


so         ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

are  little  gilt  ear-rings,  and  she  is  hugging  tightly  to  her 
bosom  a  large  and  very  gaudy  doll.  It  is  not  exactly 
the  kind  of  doll  an  English  child  would  care  about,  because 
its  face  is  the  face  of  an  idiot  and  it  is  made  of  some  sort 
of  poor  composition  stuff ;  its  clothes  are  tawdry  material 
of  tinsel  and  stiff  muslin,  and  are  pinned  on  by  pins  with 
coloured  glass  heads  glittering  in  the  sun.  Maria  thinks 
it  lovely  and  shrieks  if  her  young  brother  Sebastian  lays 
a  finger  on  it.  She  is  on  the  point  of  leaving  her  own 
country,  perhaps  for  ever,  to  travel  for  thousands  of 
miles  to  a  land  where  everything  is  different  from  what 
she  is  used  to ;  but  she  is  as  unconscious  of  this  as  if  she 
were  a  little  kitten,  and  as  long  as  she  can  roll  in  the 
sunshine  and  hug  her  doll,  the  first  she  has  ever 
possessed,  the  thought  of  the  morrow  does  not  trouble 
her  soul. 

Her  home  lies  far  away  in  the  interior  of  Spain,  and  her 
parents  have  travelled  to  Gibraltar  in  carts  and  then  in  a 
marvellous  thing  called  a  train  which  made  the  children 
shriek  with  delight  when   it   moved  off  without  horses. 
Maria  and  Sebastian  were  brought  up  in  a  hovel  with  a 
mud  floor,  and  only  one  room,  shared  with  the  donkey  and 
the  goat.     They  were  never  taught  to  obey,  or  to  have 
their  meals  at  regular  hours,  or  to  go  to  bed  at  night  at  a 
particular  time  ;  they  ran  in  when  they  pleased,  clamoured 
for  something  to  eat  or  drink,  or  else  fell  down  on  a  bundle 
of  rags  in  the  corner  and  were  sound  asleep  in  a  moment. 
They  often  slept  in  the  heat  of  the  day  and  were  up 
almost   all   night   listening   to   a   neighbour   playing   the 
guitar,  or  singing  and  rollicking  with  other  children.     Their 
usual  drink  was  sour  red  wine  made  from  grapes  grown  on 
the  neighbouring  hillsides  after  all  the  best  juice  had  been 
already  pressed  out  of  them.     This  the  peasants  bought  in 
immense  bottles,  swollen  out  below  like  little  tubs,  and 
cased  in  wicker-work  with  handles  which  made  them  easy 


REALLY  OFF!  31 

to  carry.  In  every  hovel  there  was  a  bottle  like  this. 
To  match  it  there  was  an  enormous  loaf  of  dark-coloured 
bread,  made  flat  and  round  as  a  cart-wheel  or  a  small 
table ;  bits  of  this  were  chopped  off  as  required,  and  when 
Sebastian  and  Maria  cried  out  they  were  hungry  they  had 
a  lump  of  bread  and  sip  of  wine  given  to  them,  and  then 
they  became  quite  happy  again.  Sometimes  they  had 
olives  with  their  bread,  or  chestnuts,  or  a  salad  made  from 
herbs  growing  by  the  roadsides,  and  they  had  oranges 
very  often  and  goat's  milk  cheese.  On  high  days  and 
festival  days  they  had  sometimes  very  thin  hot  cabbage  soup 
out  of  a  great  black  pot  that  boiled  over  a  few  sticks  ; 
they  dipped  their  bread  into  it  or  supped  it  up  out  of  large 
flat  wooden  spoons,  wrinkling  their  little  noses  meantime 
because  it  was  so  hot.  A  grand  treat  was  a  purple  or 
crimson  pomegranate  given  by  a  kindly  neighbour. 

When  Maria  was  about  seven  the  whole  family  moved 
into  a  town  where  the  narrow  streets  were  always  dark 
between  the  tall  thin  houses.  It  was  much  more  exciting 
here  than  in  the  country ;  there  was  always  something  to 
see,  and  in  the  evenings  the  whole  place  was  like  a  bazaar 
with  people  coming  and  going,  and  shows  and  entertain- 
ments open  half  the  night.  On  festival  days  the  streets 
were  gay  with  lanterns,  and  festoons  of  coloured  paper  and 
flags  were  waved  until  the  children  thought  it  like  heaven. 

Then  came  a  talk  of  crossing  the  sea.  Some  members 
of  the  family  and  very  many  friends  had  already  made 
a  journey  to  a  far-away  country  called  Argentina,  and 
others  were  thinking  of  going.  It  seemed  that  in  tluit 
land,  wliich  was  as  sunny  and  warm  as  their  own,  there 
was  more  money  to  be  made  than  in  Spain,  and  as  party 
by  party  made  up  their  minds  and  set  off  in  one  of  the 
great  emigrant  ships  Maria's  father  grew  more  gloomy  and 
unsettled,  until  at  last,  by  one  means  or  another,  he  had 
scraped  together  enough  money  to  pay  for  their  passages. 


32    ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 


A   FLOWER   SELLER   AT  TOULON. 


and  then  they  all  started  on  the  great  adventure,  even  a 
greater  one  than  our  going  round  the  world. 

It  is  only  a  couple  of  days  after  leaving  Gibraltar  that 
we  reach  Toulon  in  good  time  in  the  morning.  We  anchor 
well  outside  the  splendid  bay,  as  Toulon  is  one  of  the 
most  important  French  ports,  and  no  prying  eyes  are 
wanted  there.  In  the  little  steam-launch  we  run  past  the 
huge  battleships  La  Verite,  La  Republique,  and  others 
lying  solidly  in  a  row  manned  by  French  sailors  with  little 
red  top-knots  on  their  flat  caps.  Then  we  see  the  beautiful 
range  of  high  hills  surrounding  the  bay,  and  are  landed 
on  the  quay.  The  market  is  one  of  the  most  interesting 
things  here,  and  we  are  lucky  to  be  in  time  for  it.  Up  a 
long  narrow  street  are  lines  of  open-air  stalls  covered  with 


REALLY  OFF!  ^3 

masses  of  fruit  and  vegetables.  The  natty  little  French- 
women who  sell  them  almost  all  wear  blue  aprons  and 
black  dresses,  and  have  little  three-cornered  shawls  over 
their  shoulders. 

Look  at  that  bunch  of  celery  there,  it  is  monstrous — 
the  size  of  a  child  !  Everything  seems  on  a  huge  scale  ; 
there  are  artichokes  on  great  stalks,  melons  gleaming 
deep  orange-red  and  too  large  for  any  but  a  man  to  lift ; 
scattered  all  about  are  bunches  of  little  scarlet  tomatoes 
not  much  bigger  than  grapes.  But  the  oddest  thing  to 
us  are  the  bunches  of  fungi,  tawny-coloured,  piled  up  in 
heaps,  and  evidently  very  popular  !  There  are  squares  of 
matting  covered  with  chestnuts,  and  whelks,  like  great 
snails,  sticking  out  their  horns  and  crawling  over  each 
other  in  a  lively  way.  A  strange  medley  !  The  flowers 
are  lovely ;  you  can  buy  a  big  bunch  of  violets  for  a  sou, 
and  sou  is  the  peasant  word  for  a  halfpenny.  Gladiolus, 
anemones,  roses,  and  mignonette  fill  the  air  with  fragrance. 
It  is  a  beautiful  place  this  market. 

After  lunch  we  stroll  down  to  the  quay  again  and 
wander  idly  about  looking  at  the  people  until  the  launch 
comes  to  take  us  back  to  the  steamer.  There  is  a  huse  fat 
man  seated  on  a  low  stool  cleaning  the  boots  of  another 
man  equally  stout.  Wedged  into  the  corner  beside  them, 
so  that  they  cannot  stir,  are  two  small  white  boys  with 
thin  pathetic  little  faces.  As  we  watch  we  see  the  boot- 
cleaning  man,  who  has  a  cruel,  mean  expression,  pull  liold 
of  the  little  tunic  of  the  nearer  one,  and  point  to  a  smear 
upon  it,  then  deliberately  he  raises  his  large  hand  and 
smacks  the  child  hard  across  the  cheek.  The  little  chap 
makes  no  effort  to  escape, — he  evidently  knows  it  is  hope- 
less,— he  only  crooks  a  thin  little  arm  over  his  check  as  lie 
shrinks  back.  Deliberately  the  great  man  holds  down  the 
thin  little  arm  and  strikes  him  ajjain  with  savao^c  force. 
It  is  sickening  !  If  we  interfere  the  child  will  probably 
3 


34    ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

only  get  it  worse  afterwards.  There  are  a  few  brutes  like 
this  who  make  their  own  children's  lives  a  misery,  though 
mostly  French  people  are  very  kind.  The  children  look 
so  ill  and  pale,  too,  they  probably  don't  get  half  enough  to 
eat. 

"  May  I  get  them  some  sweets  ?  " 

Happy  thought  !  We  passed  a  shop  a  minute  ago. 
Here,  wait  a  second,  say  to  the  father  in  your  best  French 
this  sentence — 

"  lis  sont  a  vous,  ces  gargons,  Monsieur  ?  Tres 
beaux  gar 90ns  !  " 

You  see  you  have  put  him  in  a  good  humour,  he  is 
pleased,  though  the  poor  little  chaps  are  very  far  from 
being  "  beaux."  They  seem  almost  too  stupefied  to  under- 
stand the  sweets,  but  they  know  the  way  to  put  them  in 
their  mouths. 

While  we  are  waiting  on  the  tender  before  it  starts 
we  see  a  different  set  of  little  boys  ;  one,  a  delicate, 
pretty-looking  little  fellow,  about  your  age,  but  not  nearly 
so  tall  or  strong,  raises  his  cap  and  begins  in  English, 
"  Good-day,  Monsieur."  His  little  companions  sit  around 
in  awe  at  his  knowledge  and  audacity.  His  name  is 
Pierre,  he  tells  us,  and  that  badly  dressed  sturdy  little 
boy  with  a  sullen  face  is  Louis.  Pierre  tries  to  make  con- 
versation in  our  own  language  to  entertain  us.  "  Are 
you  to  Australie  going  ?  "  he  asks.  We  tell  him  we  are 
going  first  to  Egypt.  "  Monter  au  chameau ! "  he  cries 
excitedly,  going  off  into  a  gabble  of  French  and  beseeching 
us  to  take  him  with  us  as  "  boy."  We  tell  him  that  he 
is  too  small  and  that  it  costs  much  money.  "  Have  you 
money — English  ?  "  he  asks.  He  is  very  much  interested 
when  we  show  him  half  a  crown  and  explain  that  it  is 
equal  to  three  francs  of  his  own  money.  Then  he  catches 
sight  of  some  English  stamps.  "  Timbres  !  "  he  cries, 
and  then,  with  a  great  effort,  "  I  college,"  meaning  "  I 


REALLY  OFF!  35 

collect."  We  give  him  a  halfpenny  stamp,  which  he 
carefully  puts  away  in  a  battered  purse  already  containing 
two  French  pennies.  Louis,  who  has  been  giving  con- 
vulsive hitches  to  his  little  trousers,  which  threaten  to 
part  company  altogether  with  the  upper  garment,  bursts 
in  eagerly,  asking  us  to  give  him  a  penny,  adding  solemnly  : 
"  Ma  mere  est  morte,"  as  if  the  fact  of  his  mother  being 
dead  entitled  him  to  demand  it.  We  explain  that  it  is 
not  polite  to  ask  for  money.  "  Cigarette,"  he  then  says 
promptly.  We  tell  him  that  in  England  the  law  forbids 
boys  under  sixteen  to  smoke,  whereat  they  all  shriek 
with  laughter.  So  we  add  that  Englishmen  want  to  grow 
up  tall  strong  men,  and  if  they  smoke  as  boys  they  won't, 
whereupon  they  grow  grave  again  and  nod  their  little 
heads  wisely. 

The  waves  are  quite  wild  out  in  the  bay  and  we  have 
considerable  difficulty  in  jumping  on  to  the  slippery  step 
at  the  foot  of  the  long  gangway  up  the  ship's  side.  Hang- 
ing on  with  a  firm  grip  we  struggle  upward,  and  when  we 
reach  the  top  we  see  the  little  French  boys  waving  their 
good-byes  to  us  from  the  tender,  Pierre  bowing  gracefully, 
cap  in  hand,  Louis  with  his  disreputable  air  of  being  a  little 
ragamuffin  and  rejoicing  in  it. 


A  STREET  IN   POMPEII. 


CHAPTER    III 


FIERY   MOUNTAINS 


Do  you  learn  Physical  Geography  ?  I  did  when  I  was  in 
the  schoolroom,  but  it  is  quite  likely  to  have  been  given  up 
now,  or  perhaps  it  is  called  by  some  other  name.  It 
sounds  dull,  but  is  not  really,  at  least  there  was  one  part 
of  it  that  interested  me  immensely,  so  much  so  that  that 
particular  page  was  thumbed  and  dirty  with  being  turned 
over  so  many  times.  This  was  the  page  on  which  volcanoes 
were  described.  I  never  thought  I  should  see  a  volcano, 
but  the  idea  of  these  tempestuous  mountains,  seething  with 
red-hot  fire  inside,  and  ready  to  vomit  forth  flames  and 
lava  at  any  time  appealed  to  the  imagination.  This 
lava,  it  seemed,  was  a  kind  of  thick  treacly  stuff,  resembling 
pitch,  which  ran  down  the  mountain-sides  boiling  hot  and 
carried  red  ruin  in  its  track.  It  seems  nothing  less  than 
idiotic  for  people  to  live  on  the  slopes  of  a  volcano  where 
such  an  awful  fate  might  overtake  them  at  any  time,  yet 
they  not  only  did  so  but  still  do. 

One  of  the  reasons  why  we  came  by  the  Orient  line  is 

36 


FIERY  MOUNTAINS 


37 


VESUVIUS. 


to  see  Naples,  which  stands  almost  under  the  shadow  of  one 
of  the  best-known  volcanoes  in  the  world — Vesuvius. 

We  arrive  at  Naples  early  in  the  morning  and  are  the 
very  first  to  be  up  and  out  on  deck.  The  bay  has  been 
called  one  of  the  most  lovely  to  be  seen  anywhere,  but 
to-day  at  least  it  is  disappointing,  for  there  is  no  sun  and 
only  a  dull  grey  drizzle,  which  carries  our  thoughts  back 
to  England  at  once. 

The  houses  of  the  town  rise  in  tiers  up  the  hillside, 
very  tall  and  straight,  and  seem  to  be  filled  with  innumer- 
able windows. 

However,  it  is  not  the  view  of  Naples  itself  which  is 
called  so  beautiful  but  rather  that  of  the  bay  from  Naples, 
especially  on  a  blue  and  golden  day,  and  that  we  have  no 
chance  of  seeing.  On  one  side  of  the  bay  rises  the  mighty 
mountain  whose  furious  deeds  have  made  him  known  and 
respected  all  over  the  world.  There  is  a  heavy  cloud 
Iianging  around  liis  crest  so  that  we  cannot  see  the 
crater  ;  the  cloud  looks  as  if  it  were  composed  of  smoke 
as  much  as  anything  else,  for  even  yet  Vesuvius  is  terribly 
alive. 

We  get  a  hasty  breakfast,  for  though  we  are  going  to  be 


JiijHTTif; 


SS        ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

here  till  late  afternoon,  there  is  much  to  see,  and  we  have 
no  time  to  spare.  Then  we  get  into  a  little  launch  and 
steam  past  all  the  great  ships  lying  at  anchor.  On  the 
quay  we  find  ourselves  in  a  great  crowd  of  grey  uniformed 
soldiers,  many  of  them  mere  lads,  carrying  their  kit, 
and  drawn  up  in  lines  waiting  their  turn  to  march  on  board 
the  towering  troopship  anchored  alongside,  while  some 
of  them  wind  up  the  gangway  like  a  great  grey  snake. 
Those  already  in  the  ship  are  letting  down  ropes  to  draw  up 
bottles  of  wine  or  baskets  of  fruit  from  the  women  who 
sell  such  things.  Within  a  short  time  Italy  has  become 
mistress  of  Tripoli,  a  country  in  Africa,  and  now  she  is 
finding  she  will  have  to  garrison  it  in  order  to  hold  it ;  and 
though  it  costs  her  a  great  deal  of  money  she  is  sending 
out  many  of  her  young  soldiers  to  guard  the  new  possession. 

We  get  some  money  changed  on  the  quay,  receiving  in 
exchange  a  number  of  lire  ;  the  lira  is  very  like  a  franc  and 
corresponds  with  it  and  the  English  shilling,  though  a  little 
less  in  value. 

This  done  we  walk  along  the  front  to  the  station. 
Many  of  the  streets  are  high  and  broad  with  splendid 
houses  lining  them.  In  them  are  men  busily  at  work 
washing  away  the  mud  with  long  hose  pipes  mounted  on 
little  wheels,  so  that  they  look  like  giant  lizards  or  funny 
snakes  on  legs  running  across  the  streets  by  themselves, 
and  as  much  alive  as  the  well-known  advertisement  of  the 
carpet-sweeper  and  Mary  Ann  ! 

Other  streets  are  very  narrow  and  filled  with  people 
buying  and  selling.  There  are  swarms  of  children  rolling 
about  in  the  filth  of  the  roadway  ;  they  are  dressed  in  rags 
and  their  bodies  show  through  the  large  holes.  They  are 
often  playing  with  old  bones  or  pebbles.  Their  faces 
are  sometimes  quite  beautiful,  rich  golden-brown  in  colour, 
and  their  great  velvety  brown  eyes  look  so  sweetly  innocent 
you  would  be  easily  taken  in  by  them  ;  but  they  are  terrible 


FIERY  MOUNTAINS  39 

little  rogues  and  would  beg  from  you  or  steal  if  they  got  the 
chance.  Here  and  there  are  shops  where  macaroni  is 
sold  ;  it  is  ready  boiling  in  great  pans  ;  this  and  cakes  made 
of  a  kind  of  flour  called  polenta  are  the  chief  food  of  the 
Italians.  The  macaroni  is  made  out  of  flour  mixed  with 
water  to  a  stiff  paste  and  squeezed  through  holes  in  a  box 
till  it  comes  out  in  long  strings.  It  used  to  be  made  in 
all  the  dust  and  dirt  of  the  villages,  and  is  still  often  to  be 
seen  hanging  over  posts  there  to  dry,  but  there  are  now 
large  manufactories  where  it  is  made  quite  cleanly  by 
machinery  ;  we  shall  see  some  as  we  pass  on  our  way  to 
Pompeii,  where  we  are  going.  There  is  one  pleasant  thing 
to  notice,  namely,  wherever  you  look  you  see  flowers 
growing  ;  the  larger  and  better-class  houses  have  balconies 
filled  with  broad-leaved  plants  and  creepers,  and  the  very 
poorest  people  living  high  up  towards  the  sky  have 
window-boxes  filled  with  flowers. 

At  the  station  we  find  a  little  train,  like  a  tram,  with 
red  velvet  cushions,  and  while  we  sit  and  wait  for  it  to  take 
us  to  Pompeii,  the  city  buried  by  Vesuvius,  the  rain  falls 
softly  and  steadily.  Presently  the  stationmaster  and 
his  assistant  step  out  gingerly  along  the  uncovered  plat- 
form, holding  umbrellas  over  their  uniforms,  and  give  the 
word  of  command,  and  very  slowly  we  start,  and  jolt 
along,  stopping  frequently.  We  pass  through  market 
gardens  first  and  then  through  endless  vineyards,  in  many 
of  which  the  clinging  vines  are  not  propped  up  on  sticks, 
but  merely  looped  from  one  poplar  tree  to  another,  for  the 
trees  are  growing  in  straight  rows  and  form  a  natural 
support.  This  ground  is  particularly  good  for  vines,  for 
the  lava  which  has  been  dug  into  the  soil  is  peculiarly 
fruitful. 

There  are  little  white  box-like  houses  amid  the  vines, 
and  they  are  hung  all  over  with  bunches  of  brilliant  scarlet 
fruit,  which,  when  we  get  near  enough  to  sec,  we  find  to  be 


40    ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

tiny  tomatoes.  Other  houses  have  pumpkins  also  and 
melons  and  chillies,  all  hanging  out  to  get  dried,  so  that 
they  look  quite  decorative  with  their  strange  adornments. 
Suddenly  our  attention  is  called  to  a  broad  strip  of  black 
earth,  in  shape  like  a  river,  flowing  down  the  hillside, 
but  made  up  of  huge  blocks  as  if  it  had  been  turned  up  by  a 
giant  ploughshare.  This  is  a  lava  bed  made  by  the  last 
great  explosion  of  Vesuvius  in  1906,  when  the  lava  ran 
down  in  molten  streams,  tearing  its  way  through  the 
vineyards  and  sweeping  across  the  railway  lines  ;  at  that 
time  two  hundred  people  were  killed.  An  enterprising 
firm  has  run  a  little  railway  to  the  very  top  of  Vesuvius, 
and  anyone  who  cares  to  do  so  can  go  by  it  and  peep  into 
the  awful  crater  at  the  summit,  and  a  cinematograph 
operator  has  recently  been  down  one  thousand  feet  into 
the  crater  to  take  films  for  exhibition.  When  Vesuvius 
is  in  a  bad  humour  and  has  growled  and  grumbled  for  some 
days,  people  are  not  allowed  to  go  up  to  the  top  lest  he 
vomit  forth  his  fury  even  while  they  are  there  and  over- 
whelm them. 

While  we  are  on  the  way  to  Pompeii  I  will  tell  you 
something  of  the  fascinating  story. 

Many  years  ago,  long  before  the  people  on  our  islands 
were  civilised,  when  Britons  ran  about  dressed  in  skins 
and  floated  in  wicker-boats  covered  by  skins,  there 
were  intelligent  and  refined  people  living  all  round  the 
base  of  Vesuvius  ;  they  knew,  of  course,  that  the  mountain 
was  a  volcano,  but  there  had  never  been  any  very  terrible 
explosion  that  they  could  remember,  and,  anyway,  the 
slopes  of  the  mountain  where  the  towns  stood  extended 
so  far  from  the  crater  that  no  one  thought  it  possible  for 
any  great  disaster  to  happen.  The  two  principal  towns 
were  called  Herculaneum  and  Pompeii.  The  people 
there  dressed  in  lovely  silks  and  satins  ;  they  had 
beautifully  built  houses  filled  with  statues  and  pictures  ; 


FIERY  MOUNTAINS  41 

the  women  wore  costly  jewellery  ;  they  had  plenty  of 
amusements,  for  they  danced  and  sang  and  visited  each 
other,  and  had  stalls  at  the  amphitheatre,  and  supported 
candidates  at  political  elections,  and  gossiped  and  drove 
in  chariots,  and  lived  and  loved.  They  thought,  as  we 
all  do  in  our  turn,  that  they  knew  everything  and  that 
no  one  could  reach  so  high  a  pinnacle  of  civilisation  as 
they  had  reached.  This  was  only  about  fifty  years  after 
Christ's  death  on  the  cross,  and  the  Christians  were  still  a 
comparatively  small  and  despised  band. 

Well,  one  day  there  was  a  certain  amount  of  uneasiness 
felt,  for  a  curious  black  cloud  had  formed  over  Vesuvius, 
and  it  was  not  quite  like  anything  that  had  ever  been 
seen  before ;  people  also  spoke  of  strange  rumblings  in 
the  bowels  of  the  earth,  and  there  was  an  oppressiveness 
in  the  air  which  alarmed  the  timid.  Then  came  terrifying 
noises,  cracklings  and  explosions,  and  a  fine  dust  filled 
the  air  and  began  settling  down  everywhere  ;  no  sooner 
was  it  brushed  off  than  there  it  was  again  ;  it  penetrated 
even  close  shut  houses,  and  filled  the  hinges  so  that  the 
doors  would  not  open  easily.  The  rich  people  began  to 
make  arrangements  to  get  away,  but  before  they  could 
carry  them  out  awful  confusion  fell  upon  them ;  day  was 
turned  to  night,  the  clouds  of  dust  fell  thickly  and  chok- 
ingly, stifling  men  as  they  ran ;  volumes  of  lava  poured 
forth,  sweeping  like  fiery  serpents  down  the  mountain- 
side ;  they  rushed  over  Herculaneum,  which  was  not  far 
from  Pompeii,  so  that  while  the  one  city  was  boiled  the 
other  was  smothered.  Curses  and  prayers  alike  were  no 
avail.  Men  were  cauglit  and  choked,  houses  were  silted 
up,  and  the  whole  district  was  buried. 

Years  passed  and  the  tradition  of  the  destroyed  cities 
remained  ;  it  was  known  that  they  were  thereabouts,  but 
so  completely  had  the  mountain  done  its  work  that  no 
one  knew  exactlv  where,  and  it  was  only  comparatively 


42    ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 


A   HOUSE   IN   POMPEII. 


recently  that  money  was  subscribed  and  the  work  of 
unearthing  them  began.  By  the  railway  we  have  passed 
through  Herculaneum,  and  here  we  are  at  Pompeii.  Now 
you  shall  see  what  this  city  of  two  thousand  years  ago 
was  like. 

The  station  is  close  to  it,  and  as  we  step  out  of  the 
train  we  go  almost  immediately  into  the  gates  of  the  once 
buried  but  now  uncovered  city,  which  is  one  of  the  wonders 
of  the  world,  attracting  people  across  leagues  of  sea  and 
land. 

We  find  ourselves  in  a  long  narrow  street  lined  by 
roofless  houses.  The  stones  which  form  the  pavement 
are  uneven  and  much  worn,  the  foot-walks  on  each  side 
are  raised  very  high,  because  in  wet  weather  these  streets 
were  mere  torrents  and  the  water  rushed  down  them. 
Here  and  there  are  stepping-stones,  to  enable  people  to 
cross  from  one  side  to  the  other.  It  would  have  been 
impossible  in  most  places  for  two  chariots  or  carts  to  pass 
one  another,  and  we  wonder  how  they  managed.  As  a 
fact,  the  Pompeians  did  not  use  wheeled  vehicles  much, 


FIERY  MOUNTAINS  43 

but  chairs  or  palanquins,  and  the  men  went  on  horseback. 
There  are  many  open  counters  beside  the  street,  showing 
that  these  buildings  were  used  as  shops,  and  in  one  or  two 
are  large  marble  basins  hollowed  out  where  the  wine 
which  was  sold  was  kept  cool.  Along  the  side  of  one 
house  is  a  gaudily  painted  serpent,  signifying  that  an 
apothecary,  or,  as  we  should  say,  a  chemist,  lived  here. 

We  can  go  into  one  of  the  better-class  dwelling-houses 
and  we  find  that  it  was  built  around  a  courtyard  or  central 
hall,  and  we  can  peep  into  the  sleeping-rooms,  which,  in 
spite  of  all  the  luxury  of  the  inhabitants,  were  mere  little 
dark  cupboards  with  no  light  or  air.  Well,  so  they  were 
in  our  castles  until  quite  recently  !  There  was  a  garden 
behind  the  hall  in  all  the  better-class  houses,  and  this 
had  almost  always  a  tank  for  gold-fish  ;  we  can  see  it 
still  ;  but  all  the  little  personal  things  that  have  been 
unearthed — the  jewellery  and  household  utensils  and  even 
the  statues — have  been  taken  to  the  museum  at  Naples 
for  safe  keeping,  which  is  a  pity,  as  the  streets  and  living- 
rooms  seem  bare  and  cold  and  we  need  a  good  deal  of 
imagination  to  picture  them  as  they  must  have  been. 

Here  at  last  is  something  that  makes  us  start  and  brings 
back  the  awful  scene  of  death  and  dismay.  In  a  deep 
recess  by  a  doorway  are  six  skeletons,  lying  in  various 
attitudes,  left  exactly  as  they  were  found.  These  people 
had  been  caught ;  they  were  hurrying,  evidently  to  get 
out  of  the  outer  door,  and  finding  it  had  been  silted 
up  by  dust  and  that  they  could  not  open  it,  had  turned 
back,  too  late,  and  been  smothered  !  There  they  lie  now, 
nearly  two  thousand  years  after,  just  as  then. 

There  were  about  two  thousand  skeletons  thus  found 
and  taken  away — only  these  few  were  left  to  give  visitors 
some  idea  of  the  tragedy  that  happened.  Tlie  sticky 
dust  and  ashes  which  poured  down  upon  the  doomed 
city  reached  a  depth  of  twenty-six  feet,  and  they  encased 


44    ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

everything  in  a  kind  of  crust.  Dogs  and  cats  were  caught 
in  this  way,  and  even  Httle  Uzards,  such  as  those  that  live 
in  the  cracks  of  the  walls  in  Italy  to  this  day  ;  and  though 
their  bodies  had  decayed  away  long  before  they  could  be 
dug  out,  yet  the  exact  impression  remained,  and  in  many 
cases,  by  pouring  soft  plaster  into  the  holes,  men  have 
reproduced  to  the  life  the  poor  little  wriggling  body  that 
was  caught  in  such  a  terrible  prison  !  You  can  imagine 
what  great  value  it  has  been  to  historians  to  find  the  things 
used  by  people  so  long  ago.  In  most  cases  customs  change 
gradually ;  the  implements  and  utensils  which  one 
generation  use  are  broken  and  lost  and  replaced  by  new 
fashions,  but  here,  in  one  lump,  stamped  down  hard  for 
ever,  are  the  things  caught  in  a  second  of  time  and  held 
in  an  iron  grip  while  the  years  rolled  by. 

Passing  on  we  find  a  small  temple  to  the  Egyptian 
god  Isis,  and  this  was  the  very  first  object  to  be  discovered. 
Some  men  quarrying  for  stone  struck  upon  it  and  thus 
the  long-lost  site  of  the  town  was  found.  Then  we  see 
the  public  baths  with  all  the  arrangements  for  heating 
the  water ;  the  Pompeians,  like  the  Romans,  were  very 
fond  of  bathing.  But  it  is  the  little  things  of  everyday 
life  that  impress  us  most,  and  we  are  brought  up  suddenly 
by  seeing  on  a  wall  a  poster  of  the  day  advocating  the 
return  of  one  particular  candidate  to  what  was  the 
Pompeian  Parliament.  This  carries  us  right  back  into 
the  midst  of  them  !  So  does  also  that  drinking-fountain 
by  the  street  side,  where  the  marble  has  been  worn  hollow 
by  the  hands  of  those  who  leaned  on  it  as  they  stretched 
forward  to  drink  at  the  spout  ! 

We  can  walk  through  the  market-place  where  the 
people  bought  and  sold,  and  look  down  into  the  great 
amphitheatre  where  the  shows  which  they  all  loved  were 
held ;  but  as  our  ship  leaves  at  four  o'clock  we  shall  have 
to  tear  ourselves  away  and  hurry  back  along  the  little 


FIERY  MOUNTAINS  45 

line  again,  running  round  the  base  of  the  sullen  brooding 
mountain  which  may  at  any  time  hurl  down  his  thunder- 
bolts on  the  vineyards  which  still  creep  up  his  sides. 
Past  Herculaneum,  now  partly  unburied,  and  so  to  gay 
Naples,  where  the  sun  is  breaking  out. 

On  the  quay  we  see  barrows  covered  with  a  curious 
flesh-coloured  fruit  about  the  size  and  shape  of  a  large 
pear,  and  this  is  quite  new  to  us.  We  discover  these  are 
called  Indian  figs ;  but  why  Indian  ?  They  are  grown 
here  and  are  a  popular  native  fruit.  They  are  covered 
by  a  thick  skin,  easily  peeled  off,  and  are  full  of  juice  and 
very  large  pips ;  they  have  a  sweetish  rather  sickly  taste, 
but  one  can  imagine  they  must  be  a  great  boon  to  the  poor 
Italians  who  can  get  a  good  refreshing  drink  for  almost 
nothing. 

Once  aboard  we  discover  that  something  has  gone 
wrong — a  propeller  has  dropped  a  blade  and  the  ship  will 
not  start  for  some  hours.  We  might  have  stayed  longer 
in  Pompeii  after  all  ! 

There  are  compensations  for  everything  and  soon  we 
find  that  this  delay  is  going  to  be  a  good  one  for  us,  for  it 
will  enable  us  to  see  two  other  volcanoes  which  otherwise 
we  should  have  missed  in  the  darkness. 

We  ask  the  night-steward  to  wake  us  in  time  for  the 
first,  and  it  seems  as  if  our  heads  had  hardly  touched  the 
pillows  when  we  hear  his  voice  at  the  door,  ''  Stromboli 
in  sight,  sir  !  "  It  is  cold  and  we  are  very  sleepy  ;  grum- 
bling, we  make  our  way  to  the  front  of  the  deck  below 
the  bridge,  and  suddenly,  in  the  blackness  ahead,  there 
shoots  up  a  short  straight  column  of  fire  like  that 
from  the  chimney  of  a  blast  furnace.  It  disappears  as 
quickly  and  quietly  as  it  came,  and  odd  bits  of  flame, 
like  red-hot  cinders,  roll  this  way  and  iliat,  then  all  is 
black  again.  As  the  sky  quickly  lightens  we  see  outlined 
against  it  a  cone  or  pyramid,  and  from  tlic  sunmiit  there 


46         ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

shoots  out  another  column  of  flame,  to  disappear  almost 
instantly. 

"  Stromboli  sky-rocketing,"  says  the  voice  of  one  of 
the  officers  on  the  bridge  above. 

All  the  time  we  are  gliding  nearer  and  nearer  to  the 
wonderful  mountain,  when,  with  an  amazing  swiftness, 
up  flashes  the  sun,  sweeping  rays  of  colour  over  the  sky, 
changing  it  from  pale  primrose  to  fiery  orange,  and  there, 
black  against  it,  is  a  little  island  so  neatly  made  that  it 
appears  an  exact  triangle  with  a  bite  out  of  one  side  near 
the  top.  Stromboli  is  one  of  a  group  of  little  islands. 
What  had  appeared  as  flame  in  the  darkness  shows  at  the 
next  eruption  to  be  a  puff  of  smoke  from  which  burning 
lumps  fall  on  the  rocky  sides  and  down  the  precipices. 
This  happens  about  every  quarter  of  an  hour.  The  sea 
meantime  changes  to  vivid  blue.  We  are  quite  close  now 
and  can  see  tiny  white  houses  nestling  on  the  edge  of  the 
island  amid  clusters  of  green.  What  happens  to  the 
people  if  the  boiling  lava  rolls  down  through  their  vine- 
yards and  into  their  houses  ?  There  is  no  one  to  answer 
that  question.  Perhaps  it  never  gets  so  far,  perhaps 
Stromboli  has  not  yet  shown  himself  to  be  a  fierce  volcano, 
but  limits  his  eruptions  to  angry  splutterings  which  beat 
on  the  scarred  precipices  of  the  steep  sides  above  the 
dwellings  of  the  people, — anyway,  I  don't  think  I  should 
care  to  live  there,  just  in  case 

We  awake  suddenly  from  our  intent  gazing  to  find 
ourselves  the  laughing-stock  of  a  crowd  of  decently  dressed 
men  and  women  who  have  come  up  in  the  daylight, 
properly  clad,  and  there  are  we  in  dressing-gowns,  not  over- 
long,  and  slippered  feet  !  But  no  one  minds  these  little 
mishaps  on  board  ship,  and  with  dignity  we  pass  through 
to  our  cabin,  smiling  and  feeling  very  superior  to  have 
seen  so  much  more  than  the  lie-abeds  ! 

As  it  happens,  it  is  Sunday  morning  and  a  very  different 


FIERY  MOUNTAINS  47 

day  from  yesterday,  with  bright  sun  and  a  clear  sky. 
As  a  rule  there  is  service  on  board  ship  on  Sundays,  but 
to-day  we  are  just  going  to  pass  through  the  Straits  of 
Messina,  and  the  captain  must  be  on  the  bridge  the  whole 
time,  and  there  is  no  clergyman  to  take  the  duty  for  him, 
so  we  can't  have  it.  But  we  could  hardly  pass  a  Sunday 
better  than  in  admiring  the  marvellous  beauty  which 
God  has  given  to  us  in  this  world  for  our  delight. 

It  is  about  four  hours  after  passing  Stromboli  that  we 
enter  the  straits  which  separate  Sicily,  the  three-cornered 
island,  from  Italy,  which  seems  to  be  kicking  it  away 
with  the  toe  of  its  foot.  Land  begins  to  close  in  on  us, 
and  in  the  dazzling  sunshine  it  appears  radiant,  while  the 
sea  is  a  mirror  of  blue.  On  both  sides  we  see  houses  and 
villages  built  on  the  sloping  shores,  but  the  interest 
heightens  when  we  come  close  abreast  the  great  town  of 
Messina  which,  on  the  20th  of  December  1908,  suddenly 
became  world-famous  owing  to  the  awful  misfortune  which 
befell  it.  All  educated  people  knew  Messina  by  name 
previously,  but  it  was  not  until  the  Italian  wires  flashed 
the  story  of  the  earthquake  which  had  wrought  destruction 
so  swiftly  and  dramatically  that  it  will  always  be  ranked 
as  among  the  most  appalling  that  ever  happened,  that 
everyone  with  one  consent  turned  their  attention  to 
Messina,  and  the  eyes  of  the  whole  world  were  focused  on 
it.  The  suddenness  of  the  calamity  was  the  most  terrible 
feature  of  it.  It  was  early  in  the  morning  when  the  earth 
shook  and  heaved  and  raised  itself,  and  in  about  four 
minutes,  what  had  been  a  happy  prosperous  town  was 
reduced  to  a  smoking  ruin,  a  shambles  of  dead  bodies, 
and  a  hell  on  earth  for  the  miserable  beings  who  lived  in 
it  !  Almost  all  the  houses  fell  together  ;  whole  streets  of 
them  collapsed  like  a  pack  of  cards,  and  the  shock  was  so 
tremendous  that  in  many  cases  even  the  bricks  and  stone 
of  which  they  were  made  were  ground  to  powder.     Tens 


48    ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

of  thousands  of  people  were  buried  before  they  could 
get  into  the  streets,  and  their  own  houses,  where  they  had 
been  happy  and  miserable,  had  been  born  or  married  or 
suffered,  were  turned  into  their  tombs.  Those  who  were 
killed  outright  were  not  the  most  unfortunate,  for  others 
were  caught  by  a  limb  beneath  falling  stones,  or  crushed 
and  held  yet  living,  and  their  direful  shrieks  of  agony 
added  to  the  horrors,  for  there  was  none  to  help  them,  all 
were  in  the  grip  of  the  same  misfortune.  To  add  to  the 
disaster  flames  broke  out  from  the  ruined  houses,  and  the 
city  was  lit  by  the  lurid  light  of  fire  rising  to  heaven.  No 
one  will  ever  know  how  many  hapless  creatures  were 
burnt  to  death  !  There  was  no  possibility  of  working 
the  telegraph  wires,  and  the  people  left  alive  simply  had  to 
wait  for  help  till  help  came.  And  meantime  volumes  of 
water,  disturbed  by  the  change  of  sea-level,  rolled  in  upon 
the  land  ! 

Directly  the  news  startled  the  whole  civilised  world, 
ships  of  all  nations,  which  happened  to  be  anywhere  near, 
hastened  to  the  rescue.  Camps  were  hastily  run  up  and 
the  survivors  taken  to  them,  food  was  supplied  to  all  who 
needed  it,  the  wounded  and  maimed  were  attended  to, 
and  wherever  possible  those  who  were  still  living  in  the 
ruins  were  dug  out  and  set  free.  But,  as  you  may  imagine, 
this  was  a  work  of  great  danger,  because  dragging  out  a 
beam  or  stone  often  sent  a  shattering  avalanche  down  on 
the  top  of  the  rescuers. 

The  number  of  those  destroyed  can  never  be  known 
certainly,  but  it  is  estimated  at  somewhere  about  200,000, 
for  Messina  is  a  large  town.  Charitable  people  sent  sub- 
scriptions from  all  quarters ;  money  flowed  in ;  those 
children  who  had  lost  their  parents,  and  even  in  some  cases 
their  names  and  identity,  being  too  small  to  give  any 
account  of  themselves,  were  placed  in  kind  homes  and 
provided  for,   and  those  who  were   completely   crippled 


FIERY  MOUNTAINS  49 

assured  of  support  ;  others  were  given  the  means  to  start 
life  once  more.  It  is  difficult  to  imagine  that  all  this 
happened  only  a  few  short  years  ago  now ;  even  though 
we  are  quite  close  to  Messina,  and  have  the  use  of  a 
very  fine  pair  of  field-glasses,  it  is  difficult  to  make  out 
any  of  the  mischief.  It  appears  as  if  the  houses  had  been 
rebuilt,  warehouses  and  chimneys  stand  as  usual,  and  the 
great  viaduct  spans  the  valley  ;  but  those  who  know  say 
that  this  is  only  a  good  face  seen  from  the  sea,  and  that 
ruins  still  lie  in  quantities  behind.  In  the  memories  of 
those  who  passed  through  the  earthquake  there  must  be  a 
shuddering  horror  never  to  be  forgotten,  a  black  mark 
passing  athwart  their  lives  and  cutting  them  into  two 
parts — that  before  and  that  after  the  catastrophe. 

Farther  on  more  little  villages  appear,  some  looking  just 
like  a  spilt  box  of  child's  bricks  tumbled  any  way  down  a 
mountain  spur.  Then  we  catch  sight  of  the  great  majesty 
of  Etna,  the  third  volcano  we  have  seen  in  two  days,  and 
we  stand  lost  in  admiration  of  his  pure  beauty. 

The  smoothness  of  the  eternal  snow  glows  like  a  silver 
shield  on  the  breast  of  the  giant  peak.  Far  below  are 
vineyards,  olive  groves,  orchards,  and  orange  and  lemon 
groves,  for  Sicily  is  celebrated  for  these  fruits.  Above 
them  are  beech-woods,  so  deep  and  dark  that  they  are 
seldom  penetrated  even  by  the  peasants ;  beautiful  as 
the  beech  is,  it  is  a  poisonous  tree  and  nothing  can  live 
beneath  its  shade. 

It  is  all  so  smiling  and  peaceful  on  this  serene  Sunday 
morning  that  we  can  hardly  believe  that  in  Etna  too  there 
lies  the  raging  demon  of  mighty  force.  Even  as  we  watcli 
a  faint  puff  of  pure  white  smoke,  so  thin  that  it  might  be 
mistaken  for  a  wisp  of  cloud,  floats  away  from  the  peak 
into  the  infinite  blue,  and  we  know  by  his  breath  that  the 
demon  is  not  dead  but  only  sleeping. 

"  Lucky  indeed  to  get  Etna  clear  of  clouds,"  says  one 
4 


50    ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

of  the  passengers  near  us.  "  I've  been  through  the  Straits 
a  score  of  times  and  I've  hardly  ever  seen  it  as  you  are 
seeing  it  for  the  first  time  to-day." 

Volcanoes  and  earthquakes  are  closely  connected. 
There  lies  within  this  world  of  ours  an  imprisoned  power  of 
vital  heat,  which  now  and  again  bursts  through  at  weak 
places  in  the  crust.  Geologists  tell  us  that  these  weak 
places  may  be  traced  in  long  lines  on  the  earth's  surface, 
and  along  one  of  them  lie  the  volcanoes  we  have  seen. 
But  the  laws  which  govern  the  earthquake  and  the  volcano 
are  hardly  yet  understood,  even  to-day. 

After  calling  at  another  little  Italian  port  for  the 
mails,  we  do  not  stop  anywhere  for  the  next  few  days,  but 
steam  along  steadily,  making  up  for  lost  time.  We  have 
seen  something  of  the  southern  part  of  our  own  continent 
of  Europe.  We  have  landed  in  Spain  at  Gibraltar,  we 
set  foot  on  French  soil  in  Toulon,  where  the  steamer  called 
to  take  on  passengers  from  across  France,  we  have  visited 
Italy  at  Naples,  and  these  are  the  principal  countries  which 
line  the  huge  land-locked  sea.  In  old  times  the  whole 
civilised  world  centred  around  the  Mediterranean,  and 
Rome,  which  is  now  the  capital  of  Italy,  dominated  it 
all,  making  one  mighty  empire.  The  dominion  of  Rome 
reached  far  northward  to  our  own  islands,  and  she  was 
so  secure  and  supreme  in  her  power  that  it  never  entered 
the  heads  of  the  Romans  then  living  that  some  day  the 
whole  empire  would  be  split  up  and  distributed.  Their 
dominion  reached  even  to  Egypt,  where  we  are  now  going, 
and  to  the  Holy  Land,  which  we  shall  visit  afterwards  ; 
their  fleets  covered  the  sea,  their  armies  strode  hot-footed 
across  the  land,  making  broad  ways  that  passed  over  hill 
and  valley  without  pause  or  rest,  yet  now  the  empire  of 
Rome  is  but  a  name. 


CHAPTER    IV 


,         THE  STRANGEST  COUNTRY 
IN  THE  WORLD 


Looking  down  from  the  deck  of  the  Orontes  it  seems  as 
if  we  were  peering  into  the  folds  of  a  black  gauze  curtain, 
between  which  demons  from  the  pit  rush  yelling  to  and 
fro.  These  men  are  black  from  head  to  foot,  with  the 
exception  of  the  gleaming  wliite  teeth  wliich  show  between 
their  open  lips.  They  are  black  to  begin  with  by  nature, 
and  are  further  covered,  scanty  clotliing  and  all,  with  a 
thick  coating  of  coal-dust,  which  sticks  to  their  oily  skins 
and  dirty  rags.  They  are  digging  frantically  into  the 
heaped-up  coal  of  a  great  barge  lying  alongside,  gathering 
it  into  baskets  and  rushing  up  planks  to  deposit  it  in  the 
coal  bunkers  of  the  steamer,  and  all  the  while  they  shout 
in  a  strange  chant  at  the  tops  of  their  voices.  When  white 
men  are  doing  severe  work  they  are  silent,  as  they  need  all 
their  strength  for  the  task  in  liand,  but  when  their  dark- 
skinned  brothers  work  they  find  it  necessary  to  shout  as 
loudly  as  they  can,  and  tlie  harder  tlie  work  tlie  more  noise 
they  make.  At  a  little  distance  their  confused  yclHiig  is  like 
the  cheering  of  a  great  crowd  at  a  popular  football  matcli. 


5> 


52 


ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 


PORT  SAID — STATUE  OF   DE   LESSEES. 


All  the  port-holes  have  been  closed  to  keep  out  the  dust, 
the  ship's  carpets  are  rolled  away,  the  place  looks  as  if 
prepared  for  a  spring  cleaning.  It  is  time  for  us  to  go,  for 
we  have  arrived  at  Port  Said,  the  principal  landing-place 
for  Egypt,  and  we  have  to  say  good-bye  to  the  Orontes 
here,  though  we  shall  not  forget  her  as  the  first  of  the  many 
ships  which  carry  us  on  our  great  adventure. 

It  is  easy  enough  to  get  a  boat,  competition  is  keen, 
and  the  laughing  bright-eyed  boys  who  row  us  across 
seem  in  the  best  of  humour  ;  they  make  a  brilliant  picture, 
for  they  are  dressed  in  scarlet  and  blue  for  choice,  with 
bits  of  orange  wherever  they  can  stick  them  on. 

Port  Said,  where  we  have  landed,  is  a  large  town  with 
a  big  business,  yet  it  is  built  on  a  site  which  a  compara- 
tively short  time  ago  was  nothing  but  a  marshy  salt  lake. 
Men   of  all  nations  walk  in  its  streets,  and  ships   of  all 


STRANGEST  COUNTRY  IN  THE  WORLD    53 

nations  pass  through  its  port.  It  is  a  strange  mingHng 
of  East  and  West.  Here  the  two  meet,  and  those  who 
come  from  the  West  for  the  first  time  cry  with  delight, 
"  This  is  the  East  !  "  while  those  who  have  been  exiled 
for  many  years  from  their  western  homes  and  are  at  last 
returning,  exclaim,  drawing  a  long  breath,  "  Now  I  feel  I 
really  am  in  sight  of  home." 

We  are  actually  in  Africa,  that  mysterious  land  which 
still  contains  the  greater  part  of  the  unexplored  territory 
of  the  world,  and  which  for  long  was  described  as  "  The 
Unknown  Continent,"  though  it  can  hardly  be  called  that 
now.  Of  all  the  countries  which  make  up  Africa,  Egypt 
is  the  strangest,  indeed,  she  is  the  strangest  country  in  all 
the  world — a  weird  and  mysterious  land  whose  ways  are 
not  as  the  ways  of  any  other  country  on  earth. 

Imagine  a  land  much  longer  than  it  is  broad,  in  the 
shape  of  an  ordinary  hearth-rug,  and  then  lay  down  length- 
wise along  this  a  mighty  river  w^hich  divides  it  into  two 
parts.  Have  you  seen  the  Eiffel  Tow^r  ?  If  not,  you  have 
at  all  events  seen  pictures  of  it,  well,  imagine  an  Eiffel 
Tower  lying  prostrate  along  the  hearth-rug  and  you  will 
have  a  pretty  fair  idea  of  Egypt  and  its  river.  The  legs 
of  the  Eiffel  Tower  are  very  near  the  bottom  and  stick  out 
sharply  ;  from  the  point  where  they  meet  the  long  body 
stretches  upwards  straight  as  an  arrow. 

The  Nile  is  like  that.  Not  so  far  above  where  it  runs 
into  the  Mediterranean  Sea  it  is  split  up  into  many 
channels  like  the  legs  of  the  tower.  It  is  at  the  foot  of 
one  of  these  legs  we  have  just  landed,  and  presently  we 
are  going  to  pass  on  up  to  the  junction  of  the  many 
channels  at  Cairo,  which  is  the  capital  town  of  Egypt.  Of 
course  the  Nile  is  not  perfectly  straight  and  rigid  like  the 
man-made  tower ;  it  winds  and  turns,  as  all  rivers  do,  but, 
taking  it  as  a  whole,  the  comparison  is  a  good  one. 

We  have  to  wait  for  our  baggage  to  be  brought  across 


54    ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

from  the  ship  so  that  we  can  see  it  through  the  custom- 
house, and  here  it  comes  at  last ;  it  is  carried  by  a  boy 
about  your  age  who  is  simply  lost  to  sight  beneath  it. 
They  begin  young  !  He  stands  grinning,  well  pleased  with 
himself.  He  certainly  deserves  a  good  tip,  for  he  is  no 
shirker.  We  have  just  got  some  Egyptian  money  from 
Cook's,  so  can  give  it  him  in  his  own  coinage,  though  he 
would  not  in  the  least  mind  taking  English  money. 

Egyptian  money  is  not  very  difficult  to  understand  : 
the  principal  coin  is  a  piastre,  which  is  equal  to  twopence- 
halfpenny  ;  and  half  a  piastre,  which  looks  like  a  silver 
sixpence,  but  isn't  silver  at  all,  serves  the  purposes  of  a 
penny,  though  it  is  really  equal  to  a  penny  -  farthing. 
There  are  no  coppers  here.  The  most  useful  coin — corre- 
sponding to  our  shilling,  the  French  franc,  and  the  Italian 
lira  —  is  rather  like  an  overgrown  shilling  to  look  at  and 
equal  to  five  piastres  or  a  halfpenny  more  than  a  shilling. 

Now  we  have  only  to  buy  some  cigarettes  for  me  and 
some  Turkish  Delight  for — well,  for  us  both  !  Then  we 
can  go  on  to  our  train.  Cigarettes  and  Turkish  Delight 
are  the  two  things  no  one  ever  fails  to  buy  at  Port  Said, 
for  here  you  get  them  good  and  cheap. 

It  will  take  us  four  hours  to  reach  Cairo  by  rail,  and 
we  shan't  see  anything  of  the  country,  as  it  is  dark. 
And  what  a  country  it  is  ! 

You  will  never  get  used  to  it,  for  it  is  run  on  lines  of 
its  own.  The  part  of  it  lying  between  the  legs  of  the 
imaginary  Eiffel  Tower,  in  other  words,  between  the 
mouths  of  the  Nile,  is  called  the  Delta,  from  the  Greek 
letter  A,  which  shape  it  is.  Except  in  this  delta  rain 
never  falls,  that  is  to  say,  not  to  speak  of.  Up  in  Assouan, 
one  of  the  larger  towns,  which  we  shall  visit,  they  say,  for 
instance,  "  Rain  ?  Let  me  see — oh  yes,  we  did  have  a 
shower,  two  years  ago  it  was,  on  such  and  such  a  day  at 
four   in   the   afternoon.     Pretty   smart    shower  too ;    the 


STRANGEST  COUNTRY   IN  THE  WORLD     SS 

roofs  of  the  mud  houses  got  squashy  and  sHpped  down 
on  the  inhabitants.     Quite  funny,  wasn't  it  ?  " 

It  seems  funnv  to  us  that  anyone  could  remember 
the  hour  of  one  particular  shower  two  years  ago  !  With 
us  if  there  is  no  rain  for  a  few  weeks  the  farmers  begin  to 
cry  out  that  their  crops  are  ruined.  What  a  glorious 
land  Egypt  must  be  to  live  in  when  there  is  no  chance 
of  any  excursion  being  spoiled  by  the  weather  ! 

"  But  how  in  the  world  does  anything  manage  to 
grow  ?  " 

I  thought  you  would  ask  that.  Egypt  has  a  system 
of  its  own.  Once  every  year  this  giorantic  river,  which 
cleaves  the  land  into  two  parts,  rises  and  overflows  all 
its  banks  ;  it  submerges  the  low-lying  flat  land  near  it 
and  carries  all  over  it  a  rich  fertilising  mud.  The  land  is 
thoroughly  soaked,  and  when  the  Nile  slowly  retires, 
sinking  back  into  its  channel,  the  crops  are  planted  in 
the  spongy  eartli. 

For  many  ages  no  one  knew  why  this  happened,  and 
indeed  no  one  troubled  to  ask  ;  the  ancient  Egyptians 
thought  the  Nile  was  a  god,  and  that  this  wonderful 
overflow  was  a  miracle  of  beneficence  performed  for  their 
benefit.  Then  Europeans  began  to  penetrate  into  the 
heart  of  Africa  and  the  mystery  was  solved.  The  Nile 
rises  far  up  in  the  vast  continent  where  there  are  mighty 
lakes  lying  in  among  the  hills.  The  three  largest  of  these 
lakes  are  called  Victoria,  Albert,  and  Edward,  after  our 
sovereigns,  for  the  men  wlio  discovered  them  were  British 
and  naturally  carried  the  names  of  their  rulers  to  plant 
as  banners  wlicrever  they  penetrated.  These  lakes  are 
not  in  Egypt,  but  far  beyond,  in  a  region  where  at  one 
season  of  tlic  year  there  is  a  terrific  downfall  of  rain  ; 
this  swells  them  up  and  makes  them  burst  forth  from 
every  outlet  in  a  tremendous  flood.  The  Nile  carries 
off  most  of  this  water,  and  some  otlier  rivers,  wliich  flow 


S6        ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

into  it  up  there,  bring  down  masses  of  water  too,  and  all 
this  rushes  onward,  spreading  far  over  the  thirsty  land  of 
Egypt  and  turns  the  desert  into  a  garden,  making  it 
"  blossom  as  the  rose."  WTierever  the  water  reaches 
the  land  bears  fruit,  but  beyond  it  is  sandy  and  sterile 
desert. 

The  length  of  this  amazing  river  from  Lake  Victoria 
to  the  sea  is  now  reckoned  to  be  between  three  thousand 
and  four  thousand  miles,  or  almost  half  the  length  of  the 
earth's  diameter,  and  for  over  a  thousand  miles  it 
receives  no  tributaries  at  all.  In  almost  all  rivers  we  are 
accustomed  to  we  see  streams  and  other  tributaries  running 
in  and  swelling  the  volume  of  water  as  the  main  river 
passes  down  to  the  sea,  but  for  all  these  miles  the  Nile  flows 
unsupported  and  unreplenished  beneath  the  blazing  sun. 
No  wonder  the  Egyptians  worshipped  anything  so 
splendid ! 

The  total  length  of  England  and  Scotland  together, 
from  John  o'  Groats  to  Land's  End,  is  eight  hundred 
miles,  which  gives  us  a  measuring  rod  to  estimate  the 
length  of  this  splendid  highway,  which  is  frequently  half 
a  mile  broad. 

Though  the  yearly  inundation  made  cultivation 
possible,  men  soon  learned  that  it  was  not  enough ;  besides 
this  they  must  water  the  crops  between  times,  and  so 
means  were  devised  for  storing  up  the  water ;  but  these 
were  mostly  very  simple  and  primitive  until  Great  Britain 
went  to  Egypt  to  help  the  Khedive  out  of  his  difficulties 
and  to  teach  him  how  to  govern  for  the  good  of  his  people. 
Then  immense  works  were  started  for  holding  up  the 
water  which  would  otherwise  have  run  away  to  the  sea 
at  flood-time  and  been  wasted. 

We  arrive  at  Cairo  very  late  at  night,  and  when  we 
get  to  our  bedroom  we  find  both  beds  looking  rather  like 
large  meat-safes,  for  they  are  enclosed  in  white  net  curtains. 


ENGLISH   SOLlJlliRS   CI.IMIfl.Vil     1  H  !•:    I'VRAMIDS. 


STRANGEST  COUNTRY  IN  THE  WORLD     57 


THE  MOSQUE   AT   CAIRO. 

These  fall  from  a  top  or  ceiling  resembling  that  on  old 
four-posters. 

You  stare  at  them  in  a  puzzled  way  a  minute  or  so, 
and  then  declare,  "  What  a  stuffy  arrangement  !  I'm 
not  going  to  sleep  shut  in  like  that  !  " 

*'  Please  yourself,  but  you  run  the  risk  of  having 
red  lumps  on  your  nose  in  the  morning  if  a  mosquito 
takes  a  fancy  to  you  !  " 

"  Oh,  they're  mosquito-curtains  !  I've  heard  of  them. 
What  are  you  going  to  do  ?  " 

"  Run  no  risks  !  " 

At  last,  protesting,  you  agree  to  do  likewise,  and 
climb  inside  your  meat-safe.  You'll  soon  get  used  to  it, 
and  tliough  it  is  too  cold  here  for  any  mosquito  to  be 
very  hvcly,   it   is  safer.     In   some  countries  the  curtains 


i8 


ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 


are  useful  for  keeping  off  worse   things  than  mosquitoes 
— ^tarantulas,  for  instance  ! 

We  are  only  staying  one  day  in  Cairo  so  are  out 
early  the  next  morning,  and  find  that  the  town  looks  on 
the  whole  very  like  a  French  town.  Indeed,  were  it  not 
for  the  red  fez  or  tarboush  which  so  many  men  wear, 
even  when  they  dress  otherwise  in  European  costume,  and 

and  for  the  turbans 
and  flowing  robes  of 
the  native  dress,  we 
might  be  in  Paris  or 
Marseilles. 

We  go  to  the  top 
of  a  very  wide  main 
street  to  await  the 
tram  which  is  to  take 
us  to  the  Pyramids. 

"  Poste-carte,  sir- 
r-r-r,"  says  insinu- 
atingly a  ragged 
ruffian,  thrusting 
vividly  coloured  pic- 
ture postcards  into 
our  faces  as  we  stand. 
We  turn  away,  shak- 
ing our  heads.  He 
quickly  runs  round 
to  face  us  again, 
"  Poste-carte,  sir-r-r,"  in  a  tone  as  if  the  conversation 
had  only  just  begun  and  he  had  great  hopes  of  a  sale. 

"  No,  thank  you ;  go  away,"  I  say  as  sternly  and  em- 
phatically as  I  can,  for  he  is  not  too  clean. 

"  Poste-carte,  Cismus  cards,  nice,"  he  continues  with 
unabated  zeal  as  if  we  had  not  spoken  at  all.  Resolutely 
we  turn  our  backs  on  him  and  are  confronted  by  a  very 


"poste-carte  and   BEADES,"  CAIRO. 


STRANGEST  COUNTRY  IN  THE  WORLD     59 

gorgeous  individual  in  a  long  loose  gown  and  turban, 
with  innumerable  strings  of  beads  of  the  cheapest  and 
commonest  "  Made-in-Germany  "  kind,  hung  in  festoons 
round  his  neck.  "  Beades,  sir-r-r,"  he  begins  persuasively, 
and  the  other  chimes  in  a  duet,  "  Poste-carte."  "  Beades," 
continues  the  new  tormentor,  swinging  his  wares  in  our 
faces.  Evidently  "  no  "  is  a  word  not  understood  by 
these  gentry.  They  go  on  at  it  hard  for  about  five 
minutes,  our  stony  silence  in  no  way  diminishing  their 
enthusiasm,  and  then  from  the  corner  of  my  eye  I  see  a 
tall  man,  with  an  exceptionally  handsome  face,  clothed  in  a 
beautiful  long  coat  of  blue  cloth  cut  away  to  show  a  great 
orange  sash  underneath. 

"  You  want  guide  ?  "  he  says,  hastening  to  the  fray 
and  sending  the  other  men  flying  with  "  Imshi,  imshi ! " 
"  Me  good  guide,  beest  guide  in  Cairo,  show  you  Pyramids, 
all-a   sights,    verry   cheap,  sirr,    me   show  you,  only   ten 

shillings,  citadel  and " 

"  I  don't  want  a  guide,  thank  you." 
The  gentleman's  knowledge  of  English  is  limited  ap- 
parently, for  he  doesn't  understand  that.  In  exactly  the 
^ame  tone  in  which  he  has  just  spoken  he  begins  again, 
""  Me  good  guide,  showing  you  all  sights,  cheap,  verry 
cheap.  Pyramids,  telling  you  all  things,  bazaar,  only  eight 

shilling " 

By  the  time  he  has  worked  himself  through  all  the 
grades  down  to  two  shillings,  his  eye  falls  on  two  other 
newly  arrived  tourists,  evidently  Americans,  and  he  rushes 
upon  the  fresh  prey.  Luckily  our  car  comes  in  siglit  just 
then,  for  a  second  dragoman,  as  tliese  guides  arc  called, 
has  just  caught  siglit  of  us  and  is  racing  across  the  street 
as  fast  as  his  legs  will  carry  him. 

As  the  tram  starts  we  hear  his  desperate  "  Me  verry 

good  guide,  best — bazaar "     He    is    quite    willing   to 

risk  his  life   in  jumping  011   to  tlic   moving  tram  at   the 


6o 


ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 


THE   PYRAMIDS  AND  SPHINX. 


smallest  sign  from  us,  so  we  simply  hold  our  breath  and 
resolve  not  to  wink  an  eyelid  until  the  danger  is  past. 


So  those  are  the  Pyramids  ! 

We  have  arrived  after  a  very  cold  and  rather  monot- 
onous run  of  about  an  hour. 

Was  there  ever  a  time  when  one  had  not  heard  of  the 
Pyramids  and  pictured  their  vast  triangles  rising  out  of 
the  desert  ?  But  for  my  part,  I  had  always  imagined  them 
set  far  off  in  solitude  so  that  one  came  upon  them  gradually, 
seeing  them  first  as  mere  hillocks  in  the  immensity  of  the 
sand.  Instead  of  that  they  spring  upon  us  suddenly, 
rearing  up  on  a  height  as  the  tram  speeds  toward  them 
along  a  tree-shaded  road  across  a  vast  artificial  lake. 

The  lake  is  picturesque,  studded  with  little  islands 
and  promontories  covered  with  houses  and  palm  trees, 
so  also  are  the  groups  of  donkeys  and  camels  with  their 


STRANGEST  COUNTRY  IN  THE  WORLD     6i 

attendant  men  waiting  at  the  terminus  for  tourists,  but 
these  things  disperse  the  mystery  to  which  we  had 
looked  forward.  The  large  and  comfortable  hotel  at 
the  foot  of  the  white  winding  road  which  leads  up  to  the 

Pyramids  is  doubtless  useful,  but 

As  we  approach  on  foot  we  experience  surprise  to  see 
that  the  blocks  of  which  the  largest  Pyramid  is  composed 
are  so  small  they  look  almost  like  bricks.  Pictures  show 
them  as  gigantic  blocks  up  which  stout  ladies  are  being 
"  boosted  " — sorry,  but  there  is  no  other  word — by  heated 
dragomans.  As  we  draw  near  we  see  that  the  blocks  are 
fairly  big.  Nearer  still — what  is  that  crawling  about  on 
the  edge  of  the  great  cone  ?  Hullo,  it's  a  man,  and  there 
is  another  and  another.  They  do  look  small.  Why,  there 
is  one  who  has  reached  the  top  ;  he  is  not  to  be  compared 
with  a  fly  so  much  as  a  midge — who  would  have  thought 
it  ?  We  are  close  under  now  and  I  find  that  the  block 
by  which  I  am  standing  is  the  height  of  my  shoulder, 
and  I  am  fairly  tall.  This  must  be  an  exceptional  one, 
but — it  isn't  !  They  are  all  the  same  !  Watching  the 
men  clambering  up  above, — men  who  we  now  see  are 
English  soldiers  dressed  in  khaki, — we  can  understand 
why  they  seem  to  find  the  ascent  so  difficult — each  block 
is  shoulder  high  and  requires  much  strenuous  exertion 
to  surmount.  They  cannot  stride  from  one  to  the  other 
as  on  a  flight  of  stairs.  One  man  is  exhausted  and  gives 
up  half-way,  and  a  cheerful  Cockney  voice  comes  down  from 
above  telling  him  to  "  put  his  beck  into  it  !  "  He'll 
need  it.  Standing  thus  and  looking  up  we  get  some  idea 
of  the  enormous  size  of  the  Pyramid,  which  makes  its 
blocks  look  small  by  contrast.  It  is  bigger,  far  bigger 
than  one  expected.  This  is  the  largest  of  all,  built  any- 
thing between  5000  and  6000  years  ago,  as  the  tomb  of 
King  Cheops.  He  built  it  for  himself  by  cruel  forced 
labour  crushed  out  of  starving  men  ;   he  intended  that  his 


62    ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

body  should  lie  like  the  kernel  of  a  nut  in  this  mighty 
shell. 

As  we  pass  beyond  it  we  see  another,  farther  off  in  the 
desert  sand,  and  yet  another.  We  are  accustomed  to  speak 
of  the  Pyramids  as  if  these  few  at  Gizeh  were  all,  but  there 
are  others  scattered  about  Egypt,  though  they  are  less 
known  and  visited. 

Then,  quite  unexpectedly,  we  come  upon  the  Sphinx. 
It  is  in  a  hollow  in  the  sand  like  the  nest  children  scoop  out 
for  shelter  on  the  seashore,  only  vastly  greater.  As  we 
struggle  round  the  yielding  rim,  with  the  powdery  sand 
silting  over  our  boot-tops,  we  feel  something  of  the  wonder 
of  it  thrilling  through  us.  Let  us  sit  down  here  facing  it 
by  these  broken  stones,  where  we  can  be  a  little  sheltered 
from  the  chilly  wind  and  gritty  sand.  We  are  looking  at 
the  oldest  thing  in  Egypt.  You  will  see  farther  south 
many  splendid  examples  of  amazing  age  but  nothing  to 
equal  the  Sphinx.  When  Abraham  came  down  into 
Egypt  the  Sphinx  was  old  beyond  the  memory  of  man  ! 
When  King  Cheops  built  his  Pyramid  the  Sphinx  sat  with 
his  back  turned  to  it  wearing  the  same  inscrutable  smile 
that  it  has  to-day.  It  has  watched  kings  succeed  and  die, 
it  has  watched  empires  spread  and  collapse,  it  has  watched 
civilisations  ripen  and  wither  away.  All  the  known  history 
of  mankind  has  unrolled  before  it,  not  the  short  history  of  a 
few  trifling  centuries  which  we  call  ours,  but  the  history  of 
the  world. 

The  crouching  figure  is  lion-like  in  attitude,  but  how 
human  of  face  in  spite  of  its  broken  nose.  It  was  carven 
of  the  solid  rock  and  fashioned  with  its  face  to  the  sunrise 
and  its  back  to  the  desert.  No  one  knows  the  thought  in 
the  mind  of  the  puny  artist  who  brought  it  into  being  and 
then  shrivelled  beside  it  like  a  blade  of  grass.  Was  it 
intended  to  be  a  god  ?  It  has  been  silted  up  by  sand  and 
unburied  again ;   it  has  been  worshipped  and  hated.     It 


STRANGEST  COUNTRY  IN  THE  WORLD  6^ 


3 


has  been  reverenced  and  shot  at,  so  that  its  face  is  chipped 
and  its  nose  broken  away,  and  still  it  smiles  with  fierce 
serenity. 

Sit  silently. 

"  Poste-carte " 


55 


"  Imshi,  imshi. 

That  Arabic  word,  picked  up  at  hazard  from  the  drago- 
man, has  acted  like  a  talisman — the  pest  has  actually  gone  ! 

There  creeps  up  beside  you,  very  slowly  and  deter- 
minedly, an  old,  old  man.  "  Fortune  told,"  he  says  almost 
in  a  whisper,  groping  for  your  hard  boyish  hand. 
So  be  it  !  He  at  least  does  not  send  the  spirit  of  the 
place  flying  away.  Nonsense  it  may  be,  but  these  fellows 
do  know  something 

Give  him  that  five  piastre  piece  that  looks  like  a  large 
shilling  and  listen  to  his  quaint  expressive  English. 

"  Clever  head,  head  very  much  good,  gooder  than 
many  men,  but  an  enemy  inside  there.  You  see  a  long, 
long  road,  and  you  go  that  road,  then  coming  hills  and 
that  road  grow  tiresome  and  you  stop  and  say,  '  Not 
worth  it,  I  don't  care,'  an  enemy  here — slay  him  ! 

"  Much  work  lies  to  your  hands  to  do  when  they  grow 
large.  In  many  lands  I  see  them  plucking  down  cities 
and  raising  ships  from  the  depths  of  the  sea.  Strange 
things  be  waiting  for  those  hands  in  all  the  world.  IMany 
tongues  you  speaking,  and  many  things  you  gain.  But 
the  hand  not  opening  easily.  What  it  gains  it  grips,  hard 
and  tight ;  it  is  a  close  hand,  and  tliat  which  comes  thereout 
drops  slowly  between  the  fingers  to  friends  also  as  to 
foes.  Riches  and  work  and  honour  hold  the  hands,  and 
only  death  will  tear  them  away.  Witli  them  all  is  a 
bitterness  and  a  glory  greater  tlian  the  shine  of  wliat 
men  count  joy.  But  in  that  day  when  you  eat  with  kings 
the  desire  of  life  sliall  pass  from  you  !  " 

Hullo,  old  boy  !     He  gave  you  a  good  shilling's  wortli, 


64        ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

anyhow  !  Though  it  was  rather  a  nasty  hit  that  at  your 
Scottish  national  character  !  You  don't  beheve  it  surely  ? 
Look  at  the  Sphinx  and  laugh.  What  does  it  matter  if 
we  two  midges,  among  all  the  midges  that  have  crawled 
about  his  paws,  don't  exactly  enjoy  ourselves  the  whole 
of  our  brief  day  ? 

What  is  that  ?  How  you  start  !  No,  it's  not  a  lion 
roaring,  though  it's  a  pretty  good  imitation ;  it's  only  a 
camel  cursing  and  snarling  with  all  his  might  while  his 
owner  piles  a  few  bushels'  weight  on  his  back.  He  doesn't 
really  mind  it,  but  it  is  the  immemorial  custom  of  camels 
to  protest  with  hideousness  and  confused  noise,  and  if  he 
didn't  do  it  his  trade  union  would  be  down  upon  him. 

"  Poste-carte " 

Come,  let  us  go  ! 


STRANGE   LOOKING   BEASTS   MINCING   ALONG   LIKE   GIGANTIC   PEACOCKS. 


CHAPTER    V 


THE    HIGHWAY    OF    EGYPT 


Of  course  you  have  been  in  a  cinematograph  theatre,  and 
there,  seated  comfortably,  have  watched  the  various 
scenes  pass  before  you.  The  great  charm  of  these  scenes 
is  that  the  people  really  did  do  the  things  which  we  here 
see  them  doing,  even  down  to  the  smallest  gestures.  But 
often  the  pleasure  is  spoilt  by  knowing  that  the  actors 
were  only  making  these  gestures  for  the  purpose  of  being 
photographed  ;  also  the  scenes  are  sometimes  disconnected 
and  scrappy,  and  seldom  indeed  is  it  that  they  are  re- 
presented in  colour,  and  then,  though  the  colour  is  clever 
enough,  it  is  not  like  that  of  nature. 

To-day  we  are  watching  a  cinematograph  which  has 
none  of  these  drawbacks.  We  are  seated  in  a  leather- 
lined  railway  carriage  running  from  Cairo  southward  up 
the  country  to  a  place  called  Luxor,  and  passing  before 
us  every  minute  are  vivid  pictures  of  the  life  of  Egypt. 
The  railway  runs  along  the  middle  of  Egypt,  just  as  the 
Nile  does,  but  we  do  not  often  see  the  river  from  the  line, 
for  at  this  time  of  the  year  it  flows  low  down  between  its 
banks.  It  is  on  the  other  side  of  the  railway  that  the 
main  interest  lies.  Here  there  is  a  canal  as  straight  as 
the  line  and  close  beside  it,  and  on  the  far  side  of  it  is  a 
5 


66    ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

sort  of  raised  tow-path — the  great  highway  of  Egypt. 
We  see  it  against  a  fringe  of  bushy  palm  trees  at  one 
minute,  and  the  next  against  a  field  of  tall,  green-growing 
stuff,  which  looks  exactly  like  those  rushes  found  on  the 
banks  of  our  own  rivers.  This,  however,  is  maize,  or,  as 
you  probably  know  it  better,  Indian  corn,  which  forms 
the  staple  food  of  the  people.  The  brown  feathery  heads 
wave  in  the  wind,  but  the  corn  itself  is  tucked  away  in 
the  thickness  of  the  stalk.  You  must  have  seen  a  "  cob  " 
of  Indian  corn  some  time,  with  all  the  flat  yellow  grains 
nestling  in  a  honeycomb  of  little  cells.  To-day  in  Egypt 
you  will  see  everyone  eating  them  ;  even  the  solemn  baby 
seated  astride  its  mother's  shoulder  picks  out  the  grains 
and  nibbles  them  like  a  little  monkey.  The  straw  part 
of  the  plant  is  used  for  many  things  :  it  feeds  the  numerous 
domestic  animals  of  the  Egyptians  to  begin  with — the 
donkeys,  camels,  buffaloes,  bullocks,  goats — and  it  forms 
thatch  for  the  huts  and  makes  bedding. 

Notice  that  man  over  there  in  the  field  ;  his  cotton 
gown  is  of  the  purest  blue,  which  shows  up  richly  against 
the  vivid  green  of  the  maize  stalks.  There  is  another 
seated  far  back  on  the  rump  of  a  small  donkey  who  is 
tripping  along  on  its  stiff  little  legs.  It  wears  no  harness 
of  any  kind  beyond  a  cord  round  its  neck,  which  enables 
anyone  to  catch  hold  of  it.  The  man  has  no  saddle  and 
he  holds  his  long  legs  straight  forward  to  prevent  his 
feet  from  touching  the  ground,  and  from  time  to  time  he 
guides  or  goads  the  donkey  with  a  little  sharp-pointed 
stick.  Close  behind  him,  walking  fast  to  keep  up,  is  a 
tall  woman  in  black  with  a  black  shawl  covering  her 
mouth,  her  dress  is  a  mass  of  grey  dust  as  far  as  the  waist, 
and  drags  up  the  dust  in  clouds  as  she  moves.  On  her 
head  is  a  large  bundle  and  on  her  hip  a  large  baby.  She 
is  the  wife  of  the  lordly  individual  riding  so  comfortably 
ahead,  and  she  takes  this  state  of  affairs  as  a  matter  of 


THE  HIGHWAY  OF  EGYPT 


67 


MAN    AND   WIFE. 


course.  The  scene  arouses  anger  in  the  breast  of  a  nice 
American  with  a  grey  moustache  and  keen  grey  eyes,  who 
shares  our  compartment. 

"  So  long  as  they  treat  their  womenfolk  like  that  they'll 
never  rise  to  anything  better,"  he  says  emphatically. 
"  The  higher  the  civilisation  of  a  nation  is  the  higher  the 
position  of  its  women.  A  nation  of  men  who  ride  and  let 
the  women  carry  the  burdens  is  bound  to  be  rotten  and 
flabbv." 

Next  there  passes  across  our  window-frame  a  flock  of 
goats,  but  they  are  not  much  like  those  we  know — they 
are  dark  brown  and  black,  with  thick  rough  coats  and 
cheeky  tufted  tails ;  numbers  of  kids  dance  up  and  down 
the  steep  sides  of  the  tow-path  after  the  manner  of  kids 
all  the  world  over.  A  small  boy,  dressed  in  what  appears 
to  be  a  striped  flannel  nightshirt,  with  a  tiny  skull-cap 
on  his  head,  is  driving  them.  He  pulls  his  single  garment 
up  to  his  waist  as  he  dances  and  pirouettes  as  if  the  joy 
of  living  were  almost  too  much  for  him.  He  is  enveloped 
in  a  cloud  of  dust  raised  by  the  goats,  but  he  snatclics 


68    ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

handfuls  of  the  dust  from  the  ground  and  flings  it  in  the 
air  around  as  if  he  could  never  get  enough  of  it ! 

"  The  Lady  of  Shalott,"  in  Tennyson's  poem,  who 
watched  in  her  mirror  all  who  went  down  to  Camelot, 
cannot  ever  have  seen  anything  half  so  interesting  as  this. 

Presently  we  meet  a  long  string  of  fine-looking  camels, 
one  of  them  pure  white  ;  they  are  fastened  by  a  connecting 
rope  and  so  covered  with  loads  of  bristling  twigs  that 
each  looks  like  a  walking  bush,  out  of  which  the  great 
padded  feet  are  planted  with  deliberate  steps  and  the 
haughty  heads  swaying  at  the  ends  of  the  long  necks 
stick  out.  It  is  the  scrub  of  the  cotton  bush  that  they 
are  carrying ;  you  will  see  fields  of  it  presently,  some  of 
it  bursting  into  fluffy  pods,  for  cotton  growing  is  one  of 
the  most  extensive  and  profitable  of  Egyptian  industries. 
The  twigs  and  branches  are  used  as  fuel  by  the  people, 
who  have  a  happy  knack  of  letting  nothing  be  wasted. 

"  I  never  !  "  exclaims  the  American.  "  If  that  isn't 
like  them  !  "  We  are  overtaking  a  second  string  of 
camels,  precisely  similar  to  the  first,  and  similarly  laden, 
stepping  gingerly  and  protestingly  in  the  opposite  direc- 
tion from  the  first,  having  just  passed  them.  "  Why 
couldn't  they  arrange  things  better  ?  "  demands  the 
American.  "  If  one  lot  is  going  this  way  and  the  other 
that,  an  exchange  would  have  saved  time  and  labour." 

In  America  labour  is  costly  and  all  sorts  of  inventions 
for  saving  time  have  been  invented ;  in  this  eastern  land 
time  is  of  no  value  at  all,  and  a  man  working  all  day  in 
the  fields  is  content  to  earn  a  shilling.  Perhaps  the 
contrast  with  their  own  country  is  the  reason  of  the 
fascination  Egypt  has  for  Americans  ! 

What  are  those  strange-looking  beasts  mincing  along 
like  gigantic  peacocks  ?  As  we  draw  nearer  we  see  that 
they  are  camels  too,  each  bearing  a  load  of  sword-bladed 
leaves,  which  hang  down  over  their  hindquarters  exactly 


THE  HIGHWAY  OF  EGYPT  69 

like  the  folded  fan-tail  of  a  peacock.  Upon  my  word  I 
never  noticed  it  before,  but  a  camel  walks  just  like  a 
peacock,  with  the  same  hesitating  "  Don't-care-a-hang- 
for-you  "  stride.  The  bundles  so  arranged  hide  the  animals' 
hind  legs  and  bring  out  the  resemblance. 

But  what  is  it  they  are  carrying  ?  Not  maize  stalks 
this  time,  nor  bushy  cotton  twigs,  for  these  stalks  are  a 
dull  crimson  at  the  upper  end.  It  is  sugar-cane,  which 
grows  in  quantities  here,  and  forms  a  more  profitable 
crop  than  maize.  You  will  see  it  sold  at  the  stations  ;  the 
people  buy  it,  and,  breaking  off  a  joint,  eat  it  with  pleasure. 

We  cannot  tear  ourselves  away  from  this  fascinating 
window  even  for  a  moment  ;  far  in  the  distance  across 
the  green  fields  and  waving  palm  trees  we  see  glimpses 
of  the  desert,  looking  pinkish-yellow,  and  rising  up  in  it, 
changing  with  every  mile  we  travel,  are  many  pyramids, 
not  only  those  famous  ones  at  Gizeh  we  visited  yesterday, 
but  others  stretching  farther  and  farther  away.  You  will 
notice  that  the  favourite  colour  for  the  dress  of  the  peasants, 
or  fellaheen,  as  they  are  called,  is  a  glorious  blue,  but  that 
all  the  women  are  in  black — most  unsuitable  of  hues,  as 
they  live  and  move  and  have  their  being  amid  drab- 
coloured  dust  ;  khaki  would  be  much  better. 

As  our  breakfast,  though  better  than  that  in  France, 
was  nothing  so  very  wonderful,  we  begin  to  feel  hungry, 
and  are  ready  to  go  along  early  to  the  luncheon-car  ;  we 
had  a  good  dinner  in  that  one  on  the  train  coming  up  from 
Port  Said  to  Cairo,  and  anticipate  something  of  the  same 
kind.  As  we  get  up  the  American  remarks  casually,  "  Best 
pull  in  your  belts  and  have  a  smoke — there  isn't  any." 

No  luncheon-car  !  No  means  of  getting  any  kind  of 
refreshment  on  the  train  !  And  we,  having  started  at 
eight,  are  in  for  a  journey  of  fourteen  hours  !  Lively 
this  !  It  is  one  of  the  little  incidental  discomforts  of 
travel  !     The   American   is   in   the   same   plight    himself. 


70        ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  V¥ORLD 

But  he  found  out  soon  after  we  started  that  there  was  no 
restaurant-car  ;  it  only  runs  three  times  a  week,  for  the 
season  hasn't  begun  yet  ! 

We  call  the  Egyptian  attendant  to  find  out  if  there  is 
any  prospect  of  buying  anything  on  the  way.  He  stands 
grinning  very  affably  but  doesn't  understand  a  word  of 
English.  Presently,  however,  he  seems  to  understand,  and 
dashes  off,  to  return  triumphantly  with  a  feather-brush 
in  his  hand  with  which  he  violently  flops  the  seats  of  the 
carriages  and  all  our  personal  belongings  until  we  are 
choked  and  smothered  with  the  dust. 

In  English  fashion  we  have  kept  the  windows  open, 
not  realising  that  in  this  country  it  is  impossible,  and 
that  slowly  we  have  been  silted  up  with  a  layer  of  fine 
soft  dust ;  but  we  didn't  feel  the  inconvenience  of  it  much 
until  this  idiot  stirred  it  up  and  made  it  unendurable. 

Having  accomplished  this  great  feat  he  stands  still, 
grinning  and  holding  out  a  broad  palm.  Officials  on  the 
trains  are  probably  forbidden  to  utter  the  wicked  word 
"  Bakshish,"  meaning  tips,  but  they  can  ask  quite  as 
well  Avithout  it. 

Having  got  rid  of  him,  we  turn  in  despair  to  the  station 
at  which  we  have  just  pulled  up.  There  is  a  fine  mingled 
crowd  on  the  platform.  Lying  in  the  sun,  awaiting  their 
master's  pleasure,  are  two  beautifully  kept  white  donkeys, 
with  their  hides  clipped  in  neat  patterns,  very  superior 
creatures  indeed  to  what  we  know  as  donkeys,  more  like 
mules  in  size.  A  group  of  children,  fascinated  by  our 
strange  faces,  draw  nearer  and  gaze  their  fill  unwinkingly ; 
one  poor  little  mite  of  about  four  has  a  mass  of  flies 
crawling  all  over  its  face,  especially  about  the  eyes.  It 
never  attempts  to  brush  them  off,  for  long  habit  has  made 
it  callous.  Formerly  very  many  children  were  so  afflicted, 
and  the  crawling  flies,  carrying  disease,  made  them  blind  ; 
but  since  the  British  took  the  matter  in  hand  the  evil  is 


THE  HIGHWAY  OF  EGYPT  71 

much  less.  Yet  so  indifferent  are  the  mothers,  that  in 
many  cases  even  when  lotion  is  supplied  free  for  the 
children's  faces  they  will  not  trouble  to  use  it  ! 

There  is  nothing  eatable  being  sold  in  the  station 
except  fruit,  but  there  seems  plenty  of  that,  and  by  the 
time  the  train  starts  again  we  find  ourselves  with  a  fine 
assortment  in  rich  colours  of  purple  and  orange  and 
scarlet.  First  there  is  a  packet  of  dates  which  looks  all 
right  on  the  top,  but  turning  them  out  we  find  the  purple 
side  of  one  had  been  placed  carefully  uppermost,  and  the 
rest  are  all  hard,  green,  and  unripe,  not  in  the  least  like 
the  sweet  juicy  dates  we  are  accustomed  to.  The  attendant, 
who  is  watching,  scoops  them  up  and  devours  them  as  if 
he  hadn't  been  fed  for  a  month.  Then  comes  a  bit  of 
sugar-cane,  stringy  and  sickly,  which  makes  us  feel  as  if 
we  had  bitten  into  a  piece  of  sweet  wood  when  we  try  it. 
That  great  purple  pomegranate  is,  like  all  pomegranates, 
unsatisfactory  and  full  of  seeds,  and  though  the  little 
green  limes  are  refreshing  for  the  moment  while  we  suck 
the  juice,  after  a  while  our  lips  begin  to  smart  as  if  they 
were  raw,  and  we  both  keep  on  furtively  wiping  them.  It 
is  a  tantalising  feast,  and  the  American  smiles  serenely 
as  he  smokes  in  his  corner  and  refuses  to  have  anything 
to  do  with  it.  The  only  thing  we  do  get  out  of  it  are  some 
really  good  green  figs,  which  cannot,  however,  be  eaten 
without  shameless  messiness,  as  they  are  so  difficult  to  peel. 

When  the  afternoon  sun  grows  scorchingly  hot  the 
grinning  attendant  proves  himself  for  once  useful,  by 
showing  us  that  we  can  pull  up  sun-shutters  with  wooden 
slats  outside  the  glass  ones.  He  has  indeed  been  anxious 
to  pull  them  up  all  round  the  compartment  ever  since  we 
started,  and  nothing  but  physical  force  has  restrained  him, 
for  he  cannot  conceive  how  anyone  could  want  to  look 
out.  Even  now  we  keep  down  those  on  the  sunless  side, 
which  grieves  him  deeply. 


72    ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

So  all  the  afternoon  we  watch  the  glorious  scenes 
changing  in  sunlight ;  we  see  the  sailing  boats,  with  their 
tapering  white  wings,  laden  with  cargoes  of  straw,  drifting 
up  the  canal,  driven  by  the  strong  north  wind ;  we  pass 
innumerable  villages,  and  some  larger  towns,  where  market- 
day  has  attracted  vast  crowds. 

The  small  villages  are  indeed  wonderful,  and  the  first 
one  excited  us  all  three  so  much  that  we  had  to  hurry  to 
the  window.  Imagine  a  colony  of  last  year's  swallows' 
nests  under  the  eaves,  or  a  collection  of  ruined  pigsties 
and  sheds,  only  they  are  not  ruins  at  all,  but  living, 
thriving  villages  with  healthy  people  in  them.  The  houses 
are  all  made  of  mud  ;  a  few  are  fashioned  out  of  mud 
bricks,  but  many  are  merely  of  mud  stuck  and  moulded 
together  as  a  child  would  form  a  mud  house  with  his 
hands.  The  doors  and  the  holes  for  windows  are  crooked 
and  lop-sided  as  they  would  be  in  a  childish  attempt.  The 
roof  is  covered  over  with  an  untidy  thatch  of  straw, 
thrown  on  anyhow,  with  piles  of  cotton  scrub  on  the  top 
of  it.  This  scrub  is  for  firing,  and  it  is  kept  up  there  in 
the  Egyptian's  only  storehouse ;  it  is  backed  up  by  cakes 
of  dried  buffalo  dung  used  for  the  same  purpose.  As  it 
never  rains  the  fuel  is  quite  safe  from  damp. 

Every  man  builds  his  own  house  as  it  pleases  him, 
without  regard  to  the  style  or  position  of  his  neighbour's, 
consequently  the  streets  are  narrow  crooked  passages  of 
imeven  levels  ;  there  is  not  a  green  thing  in  them,  and  the 
people  live  in  dust  and  eat  it  and  wallow  in  it.  Here  and 
there  you  can  see  a  tray  of  fiat  cakes  pushed  out  into  the 
midst  of  the  dust  to  bake  in  the  sun  and  form  a  playground 
for  the  flies  and  the  microbes,  for  the  Egyptian  has  no 
respect  for  microbes,  he  is  germ-proof ;  for  generations 
he  and  his  forefathers  have  drunk  the  Nile  water,  un- 
filtered  and  carried  in  goat-skins  not  too  well  cured. 
Yet  the  people  are  happy  and   the  children  apparently 


THE  HIGHWAY  OF  EGYPT 


73 


a  gay  set  of  youngsters.  Little  Gassim  or  Achmed, 
in  the  single  unchanged  and  unwashed  garment  that  covers 
their  little  brown  bodies,  dance  and  roll  and  sing  and  drive 
the  loathly  black  buffaloes  to  the  water  and  eat  scraps  of 
sugar-cane,  and  are  as  happy  as  the  day  is  long.  They  work 
hard,  it  is  true,  from  the  time  they  can  toddle,  but  so  does 
everyone  else,  and  all  the  animals  do  their  share  of  toil, 
day  in  and  day  out. 
"  I  can't  understand 
why  they  don't  find 
a  way  of  harnessing 
the  turkeys,"  says 
the  American  sarcas- 
tically as  we  pass  a 
lordly  camel,  step- 
ping, with  protest  in 
every  movement, 
alongside  a  sturdy 
bullock  who  helps 
to  drag  a  primitive 
plough.  The  plough 
merely  scratches  the 
surface  of  the  ground, 
but  that  is  enough, 
for  the  Egyptian  will 
never  go  deeper  than 
he  need. 

We  are  getting  very  hungry  indeed  ! 
How  are  we  going  to  stand  it  ? 

Hurrah  !  A  bit  of  luck  !  The  American  has  been 
along  the  corridor  and  come  across  some  friends  who  are 
getting  out  at  the  next  station.  They  have  presented 
him  with  the  remains  of  a  lunch-basket  supplied  by 
their  hotel,  and  he  is  generously  willing  to  share  it 
with   us.     Never   was   prize-packet   opened   with   greater 


A   WATER-CARRIER. 


Six  hours  more  ! 


74 


ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 


eagerness ;  suppose  it  should  only  contain  enough  for 
one  ? 

Amid  the  white  wrappings  of  the  open  pannier  we  find 
slices  of  tongue,  rolls  of  bread,  chicken  legs,  hard-boiled 
eggs,  and  a  bottle  of  soda-water  ! 

Never  did  food  taste  better  !  We  sit  gnawing  the 
chicken  bones  and  blessing  the  American  ! 

Meantime  the  sun  falls  and  a  splendour  you  never  yet 
have  imagined  fills  the  air.  Streaks  of  flaming  colour 
shoot  athwart  the  sky,  bursting  up  behind  the  tufted  palms ; 
the  eastern  sky  catches  the  reflection  and  shows  softest 
blues  and  pinkest  pinks  in  contrast.  A  veil  of  amber  light 
hangs  like  a  curtain  overhead  and  changes  to  orange  and 
again  to  apricot  as  the  afterglow  sweeps  the  sky  before 
darkness  falls  like  the  curtain  on  a  scene  at  the  theatre. 


COLUMNS    IN  THE   TEMPLE   AT   LUXOR. 


CHAPTER    VI 


A    MIGHTY    MAN 


Our  beds  face  the  windows,  which  open  hke  high  glass 
doors,  French  fasliion  ;  before  retiring  we  set  them  wide, 
and  close  outside  the  long  shutters  made  of  slats  of  wood. 
In  the  morning  we  are  awakened  suddenly,  almost  at  the 
same  instant,  by  a  red  flame  glowing  between  the  slats 
as  fire  glows  between  the  bars  of  a  grate.  Springing  from 
our  curtains  we  fling  open  the  shutters,  expecting  to  see  a 
great  conflagration,  and  behold,  it  is  the  sunrise  ! 

The  sun  docs  not  greet  us  in  such  boisterous  fashion  in 
England  !     Here  it  (ills  the  sky  with  a  blood-red  radiance 


75 


^e        ROUND  THE  AVONDERFUL  WORLD 

and  lights  up  the  pahn  groves  in  the  garden  below,  where  a 
mighty  congregation  of  small  birds  are  shrieking  out  their 
joy  to  greet  the  god  of  morning.  There  is  an  intensity  in 
it  all,  in  the  flaming  sky,  and  in  the  thrill  of  the  birds' 
clarion  that  sends  exhilaration  into  our  veins  and  makes 
us  feel  it  is  good  to  be  alive  ! 

It  is  not  long  before  we  are  out  and  around  the  garden 
— and  what  a  garden  !  Strange  coffee-coloured  men  in 
blue  garments  like  smock  frocks,  with  baggy  blue  trousers 
caught  tightly  round  their  ankles,  appear  and  disappear 
noiselessly,  their  bare  brown  feet  making  no  sound  on  the 
sanded  paths.  There  is  something  unreal  about  it  all, 
something  that  makes  one  think  of  the  Arabian  Nights 
and  an  enchanted  garden.  The  hotel  is  called  "  The 
Winter  Palace,"  and  in  England  we  should  associate  such 
a  name  with  a  vast  artificially  warmed  glasshouse  filled 
with  broad-leaved  plants  of  dark  green ;  here,  right 
overhead,  is  a  tall  bush  covered  with  masses  of  sulphur- 
coloured  flowers,  shaped  like  tiny  trumpets,  hanging  in 
festoons  against  a  sky  of  glorious  blue.  Through  plumed 
palms  we  catch  glimpses  of  the  spreading  fingers  of  a  deep 
red  poinsettia ;  there  is  a  pink  frilled  flower  shooting 
toward  the  sky,  so  decorative  that  it  looks  exactly  like 
those  made  of  crinkled  paper  for  decorations;  this  is  the 
well-known  oleander.  The  grass  is  so  vividly  green  that 
it  seems  as  if  the  greenness  sprang  away  from  the  blades ; 
a«  we  draw  near  to  it  we  see  that  it  is  not  all  matted  to- 
gether and  interwoven,  as  is  our  grass,  but  is  composed  of 
separate  blades,  each  one  apart  and  upright,  all  together 
standing  like  a  regiment  of  soldiers.  It  has  to  be  sown 
every  year  freshly,  for  no  roots  can  survive  the  long 
drought.  Close  by  is  a  lawn  of  bare  earth,  and  a  boy  of 
about  your  age,  with  a  thin  pathetic  brown  face,  runs  round 
and  round  it,  shouting  and  waving  a  flapper  to  keep  off 
the  birds  from  the  newly  sown  seed. 


A  MIGHTY  MAN  77 

We  are  just  going  to  plunge  into  a  grove  of  trees — 
some  acacias  with  leaves  like  delicate  ferns,  and  others 
eucalyptus  with  long  narrow  leaves  looking  like  frosted 
silver — when  we  find  they  are  growing  in  a  swamp,  with 
the  earth  banked  up  all  round  to  keep  the  water  in  ! 

Other  flowers,  familiar  to  us  in  England,  such  as  roses, 
look  rather  pale  and  washed-out  here  in  contrast  with  the 
flaming  beauty  of  richest  mauve  and  brightest  orange 
worn  by  those  which  are  at  home  in  a  hot  country.  As  the 
sun  gets  strong  we  hear  the  drone  of  a  swarm  of  great 
creatures  like  prodigious  wasps  with  legs  like  stilts,  which 
fly  around  the  sweet-scented  blooms.  In  ancient  inscrip- 
tions this  wasp,  or  hornet,  was  used  as  the  sign  of  Northern 
or  Lower  Egypt.  Across  the  flower-beds  run  miniature 
canals  of  stone,  by  means  of  which  the  water  from  the 
life-giving  river  is  carried  all  over  the  ground,  so  that  it  can 
be  easily  watered  ;  a  very  large  part  of  the  time  of  the 
blue-bloused  gardeners  is  spent  in  watering.  A  garden 
which  was  watered  from  the  sky  would  be  a  miracle  to 
them. 

We  come  back  again  to  the  hotel  and  pass  through  to 
the  other  or  front  entrance,  where  we  catch  sight  of  the 
majestic  Nile,  which  we  could  not  see  in  the  darkness  of  our 
arrival  last  night.  Standing  on  a  high  terrace,  bounded  by 
a  parapet  covered  with  riotous  masses  of  magenta  bougain- 
villea,  we  see  the  turquoise-blue  river,  flecked  with  boats 
carrying  high,  white,  three-cornered  sails  ;  on  the  other 
side  rise  calm  hills  of  orange-yellow.  We  shall  visit  those 
hills,  for  in  them  are  buried  some  of  the  mightiest  kings 
of  Egypt,  and  the  wild  fastnesses  form  a  truly  royal  burial- 
place,  grander  than  any  ordinary  mausoleum  or  cemetery 
could  ever  be.  On  both  sides  of  the  river  at  one  time 
stood  the  royal  city  of  Thebes,  one  of  the  best  known  of 
all  the  capitals  of  Egypt  which  sprang  up  from  time  to 
time  in  its  agelong  history. 


78         ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

If  ever  you  "  do  "  the  ix.  book  of  the  Iliad  in  your 
schoolwork,  you  will  find  that  Homer  speaks  of  Thebes  as 
having  one  hundred  gates  and  possessing  twenty  thousand 
war-chariots  !  It  extended  for  about  nine  miles  along  the 
river-bank. 

After  breakfast  our  first  plunge  into  sight-seeing  is  a 
visit  to  the  temple  of  Luxor,  which  faces  the  river  just 
five  minutes'  walk  along  the  street  from  the  hotel.  This 
is  the  very  first  Egyptian  temple  w^e  have  examined  and  it 
is  astonishing  how  much  we  can  learn  from  it.  That  mighty 
row  of  columns,  larger  and  higher  than  any  cathedral 
pillars  you  have  ever  seen,  makes  us  feel  like  midgets. 
Standing  close  together  the  columns  spring  right  into  the 
clear  sky,  as  there  is  no  roof  left.  Not  so  very  long  ago 
they  were  covered  up  to  the  capitals  in  sand  and  debris. 
The  poorer  Egyptians  had  built  their  mud  huts  in  and 
around  them  for  generations,  and  when  one  hut  crumbled 
away  another  was  put  up  on  the  top  of  it,  and  thus  the  level 
of  the  accumulated  earth  grew  higher  and  higher.  Then 
some  learned  Frenchmen  saw  the  wonder  of  the  buried 
temple  and  bought  the  people  out,  persuading  them  to  go 
elsewhere,  and  they  gradually  cleared  away  the  rubbish 
until  the  original  beauty  of  the  temple  was  visible  again. 
Even  now,  high  up  on  all  sides,  you  can  see  the  depth  of  the 
earth  surrounding  it  like  cliffs,  and  on  the  top  are  squalid 
huts  with  dirty  children  and  fluffy  impudent  goats  and 
shrill-voiced,  black-clad  women,  living  their  daily  lives 
and  looking  down  into  the  temple. 

The  ancient  Egyptian  writing  was  by  signs — a  bird 
meant  one  thing,  a  flower  another,  and  a  serpent  another, 
and  so  on,  but  for  a  long  time  the  meaning  of  it  had  been 
forgotten,  and  it  was  impossible  for  anyone  to  read  these 
wonderful  signs.  But  at  the  very  end  of  the  eighteenth 
century  a  great  stone  was  found  which  had  upon  it  an 
inscription  written  in  Greek  and  in  hieroglyphics,  as  the 


A  MIGHTY  MAN  79 

sign-writing  was  called,  and  also  in  another  writing  which 
used  to  be  employed  by  the  priests,  and  from  this,  before 
many  years  had  passed,  clever  men  were  able  to  under- 
stand the  language  of  signs  and  read  the  inscriptions  on  the 
temples,  which  told  who  had  built  them  and  much  else. 
This  stone  was  called  the  Rosetta  Stone,  after  the  place 
where  it  was  found.     It  is  now  in  the  British  Museum. 

This  was  long  before  Luxor  was  unearthed,  and  the 
inscriptions  were  deciphered  as  they  came  to  light ;  by  their 
help  it  was  found  that  the  temple  had  been  built  chiefly 
by  two  kings,  Amenhetep  iii.  and  Rameses  11.  who  came 
after  him,  though  not  immediately.  Rameses  added  to 
the  existing  work  and  carried  it  on.  So  far  as  we  know 
all  this  was  between  three  and  four  thousand  years  ago. 
In  a  village  in  England  people  are  proud  if  they  can  point 
to  any  part  of  their  parish  church  and  say,  "  This  is  Norman 
work,"  and  yet  the  Normans  only  came  over  to  England 
less  than  nine  hundred  years  ago  !  Go  back  more  than 
three  times  that,  and  try  to  realise  the  age  of  this  temple. 
And  even  this,  as  we  know,  is  not  old  compared  with 
the  Pyramids  !  Doesn't  it  make  us  feel  that,  as  a  nation, 
we  are  rather  young  after  all  ? 

Long  before  we  were  a  nation  these  mighty  kings 
flourished  in  Egypt  and  lived  in  pomp  and  splendour. 
They  each  had  a  different  name,  of  course,  and  more  than 
one,  but  yet  they  were  all  Pharaohs,  just  as  at  one  time 
in  the  Roman  Empire  each  emperor  was  a  Caesar. 

The  Pharaohs  had  unlimited  power  in  their  own 
dominions,  and  forced  their  subjects  to  work  for  them  as 
they  pleased  without  giving  them  any  payment.  By 
some  means  we  can't  understand  these  miglity  blocks 
of  sandstone  composing  tliis  temple  and  many  others  were 
brought  from  a  place  farther  up  the  river.  It  is  supposed 
that  they  were  put  on  great  rafts  and  floated  down  at 
flood-time,  but  the  handling  of  them  is  still  a  mystery. 


8o 


ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORUD 


The  men  who  dealt  with  them  had  no  steel  tools,  no 
driving  force  of  steam  or  electricity  at  their  backs,  yet  they 
reared  buildings  which  we  to-day,  with  all  our  appliances, 
think  masterpieces. 

Rameses  ii.  was  called  the  Great ;  he  reigned  for  over 
sixty  years,  and  he  has  a  peculiar  interest  for  us  because  he 
is  believed  to  have  been  the  Pharaoh  who  oppressed  the 

Israelites,  while  his  son 
and  successor,  Menep- 
thah,  was  the  Pharaoh 
of  the  Exodus. 

Walk  up  the  great 
aisle  of  giant  columns 
into  the  courtyard  at 
the  end,  there,  between 
the  pillars,  stand  massive 
images  of  granite,  most 
of  them  headless,  but 
one  perfect  except  for 
the  ends  of  the  fingers 
and  toes. 

Sit  down  on  this 
fallen  block  and  look  at 
that  marvellous  image; 
it  is  the  mighty  Rameses. 
himself  !  There  is  a  re- 
pressed energy  and  in- 
domitable purpose  about 
him  that  tells  in  every  line  of  a  man  who  never  let  go  and 
never  allowed  himself  to  be  thwarted.  His  almond- 
shaped  eyes  and  full  lips,  the  proud  tilt  of  his  head,  are 
not  merely  conventional,  they  are  an  actual  likeness  of 
the  man  taken  from  life.  He  is  every  inch  a  king.  His 
successor,  who  was  his  thirteenth  son,  was  probably  of  the 
same  type,  and  one  can  well  imagine  his  scornful  indigna- 


STATUE  OF  RAMESES   II.   AT   LUXOR. 


A  MIGHTY  MAN  8i 

tion  at  being  asked  to  yield  up  that  nation  of  slaves, 
the  Israelites,  whom  he  treated  as  we  would  not  treat 
animals  nowadays.  The  miracle  is  that  Moses  was  not 
instantly  slain  for  his  boldness  in  proposing  it ;  he  was,  of 
course,  screened  by  his  relationship  to  Pharaoh's  daughter, 
but  that  would  have  counted  little  had  he  not  been  pro- 
tected by  a  power  far  above  that  of  the  king  of  Egypt. 

Close  down  under  the  knee  of  the  standing  Rameses 
is  the  figure  of  a  plump  woman,  his  favourite  wife, 
Nefertari.  The  Egyptians  had  the  rather  childish  idea 
that  size  meant  importance,  and  to  them  now,  as  well  as 
then,  women  seemed  of  much  less  importance  than  men, 
so  the  wife  was  represented  as  being  about  as  high  as  her 
husband's  knee.  In  spite  of  this,  however,  women  of 
royal  blood  were  treated  with  great  deference,  and  royal 
ladies  enjoyed  a  freedom  like  that  of  western  women  to- 
day. They  gave  their  opinions  and  transacted  business 
and  were  seen  in  public.  Many  a  king  only  sat  securely 
on  his  throne  because  his  wife  had  a  better  title  to  it 
than  he  had.  This  did  not,  however,  prevent  them  from 
making  women  very  often  quite  diminutive  in  size  in 
their  statues,  though  in  some  cases  the  king  and  queen 
are  the  same  size  and  are  shown  seated  side  by  side. 

It  is  very  quiet  and  beautiful  here  in  the  temple  this 
Sunday  morning ;  the  natives  themselves  are  not  allowed 
to  come  in,  and  visitors  only  on  production  of  a  ticket 
costing  twenty-four  shillings,  which  admits  to  all  the 
temples  of  Egypt  ;  and,  as  it  happens,  there  is  no  one  but 
ourselves.  The  sparrows  twitter  overhead  in  the  holes 
and  crannies  of  the  pillars,  and  the  great  grey  and  black 
crows  wheel  silently  against  the  blue  sky,  throwing  moving 
shadows  on  the  honey-coloured  columns. 

If  we  walk  round  the  back  of  these  solemn  statues  we 
shall  see  that  there  is  a  quantity  of  deeply  cut  liieroglypliic 
writing  on  a  great  plaque  at  the  back  of  each.     The  name 


82 


ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 


of  the  king  himself  is  always  written  enclosed  in  an  oblong 
space  called  a  cartouche ;  sometimes  this  cartouche  is 
supported  by  two  cobras,  who  are  supposed  to  defend  it. 
The  rest  of  the  writing  tells  of  the  deeds  of  the  king  and 
all  the  mighty  feats  that  he  performed. 

Turning    to    the    walls   we    find    them    covered    with 
pictures,  not  coloured  but  done  in  outline  by  means  of 

deep-cut  clean  lines.  We  see  the  king 
offering  fruit  to  weird-looking  beings  with 
men's  bodies  and  animals'  heads — ^these 
were  the  Egyptian  gods ;  there  were 
numbers  of  them,  far  too  many  to  re- 
member, but  here  are  a  few  :  Anubis,  the 
jackal-headed ;  Thoth,  the  stork-headed  ; 
Sekhet,  a  goddess  with  a  lion's  head  (some 
say  a  cat's).  Besides  these  there  were 
others  of  great  importance  :  Osiris,  the 
god  of  the  dead,  and  Isis,  his  wife — these 
were  the  father  and  mother  of  Horus, 
the  hawk-headed  god.  But  it  was  to  the 
glory  of  Amen-ra,  the  king  or  chief  of  all 
the  gods,  who  can  be  recognised  in  the 
pictures  by  two  tall  feathers  like  quills 
standing  straight  up  on  his  head,  that 
that  particular  temple  was  built. 

On  one  of  the  walls  we  see  a  long 
row  of  men,  all  exactly  similar,  one 
behind  the  other — ^these  are  some  of  the 
numerous  sons  of  Rameses  making  offerings.  You  soon 
notice  that  in  spite  of  the  vigorous  and  excellent  outlines 
of  these  pictures  there  is  something  funny  and  stiff  about 
them.  That  is  because  the  Egyptians  had  an  odd  custom 
of  drawing  a  person  sideways,  with  his  two  feet  in  a  straight 
line,  one  behind  the  other.  No  one  stands  like  that  in  real 
life,  and  if  you  try  it  you  will  find  how  difficult  it  is  not 


AN   EGYPTIAN 
KING. 


A  MIGHTY  MAN 


8 


to  fall  over  !  Also,  though  the  people  they  drew  were 
invariably  shown  from  the  side,  yet  the  artists  used  to 
make  them  look  as  if  they  were  squared  round  in  the 
upper  part  to  show  the  chest  and  both  shoulders,  so  that 
Egyptians  in  pictures  always  look  oddly  wedge-shaped, 
being  very  broad  at  the  top  and  narrow  below.  The  eye 
was  also  put  into  the  profile  face  as  if  it  were  seen  from  the 
front  !  Look  at  any  typical  Egyptian 
picture  and  you  will  soon  pick  out  these 
peculiarities.  It  seems  rather  a  pity  they 
kept  so  rigidly  to  these  silly  notions, 
as  they  really  drew  extremely  well ;  but 
no  artist  was  original  enough  to  dare 
to  break  away  from  the  established 
custom  ! 

Inside  the  temple  walls  all  these  scenes 
have  something  to  do  with  the  gods  and 
the  offerings  made  to  them  by  the  king, 
but  come  outside  and  on  one  of  the  finest 
bits  of  wall  still  standing  you  will  see  a 
most  spirited  battle-scene.  Look  at  the 
king  in  his  chariot  with  the  plunging 
horses  !  He  is  drawing  his  bow  and 
pursuing  his  enemies,  who  are  dead  and 
dying  under  his  wheels,  and  fleeing  before 
him.  To  show  how  much  more  im- 
portant he  was  than  the  enemies  he  had 
himself  made  very  large  and  the  enemies 
shown  very  small.  That  is  not  quite  our  idea  of  honour 
and  glory  nowadays ;  we  should  think  it  more  glorious  to 
overcome  enemies  larger  and  stronger  than  ourselves  ! 
This  afternoon  we  are  going  to  visit  a  still  larger  and 
more  wonderful  temple,  a  mile  or  two  away,  called  Karnak, 
and  there  you  will  see  pictures  of  the  king  of  that  time 
holding  the  hair  of  his  enemies'   heads  in  the  powerful 


AN    EGVI'TIAN 
QUEEN. 


84    ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

grasp  of  his  left  hand  while  he  prepares  to  strike  off  all 
their  heads  at  one  sweep  with  his  sword. 

The  original  entrance  of  Luxor  temple  does  not  face 
the  river  on  the  side  we  came  in ;  to  find  it  we  have  to 
scramble  over  heaps  of  rubbish  to  one  end  and  there  we 
see  a  great  obelisk,  a  companion  to  the  one  which  is  now 
in  the  principal  square  of  Paris,  the  Place  de  la  Concorde, 
and  we  see  also  two  huge  buildings  reared  up  on  each  side 
of  the  ancient  entrance — these  were  called  pylons  and  were 
always  built  in  Egyptian  temples.  On  festival  days  they 
were  decorated  with  flags  on  tall  staves  and  made  very 

gay. 

Then  we  go  out  again  into  the  main  street  amid  all 
the  life  of  the  place,  and  see  men  cantering  past  on  gaily 
caparisoned  donkeys ;  we  note  dancing,  capering,  gleeful 
children,  guides  in  gorgeous  gowns,  shopmen  of  some  mixed 
nationality  from  the  Mediterranean,  who  run  out  of  their 
shops  and  entreat  you  to  come  in.  "  Only  look  round,  no 
paying,  not  wanting  you  buy,"  they  lie.  "  Look  and  be 
pleased  ;  there  is  no  charge  just  only  to  look." 

We  stop  at  last  and  buy  two  fly-whisks  with  short 
bamboo  handles  and  long  silvery  horsehair  tails  ;  of  course 
they  do  look  very  smart,  but  we  do  not  buy  them  just 
for  that,  but  because  they  are  useful. 

As  we  have  found  already,  nothing  less  than  physical 
force  suffices  to  remove  an  Egyptian  fly,  who  sticketh 
closer  than  his  English  brother.  No  shake  or  puff  will 
induce  him  to  stir  an  eyelid,  and  yet  he  is  quick  on  the 
wing  and  you  rarely  get  him,  sleepy  as  he  appears  !  He 
doesn't  buzz,  and  there  generally  appears  to  be  only  one  of 
him,  but  if,  by  the  aid  of  a  fly-whisk,  you  get  rid  of  him, 
another  takes  his  place  immediately  ! 


THE   TOMBS    OF   THE    KINGS. 


CHAPTER    VII 


THE    CITY    OF    KINGS 

I  THINK  this  is  the  gayest  scene  I  have  ever  looked  upon 
in  my  hfe.  See  those  mahogany-coloured  boatmen  in 
their  brilliant  scarlet  and  white  striped  jerseys  and  blue 
petticoats,  grinning  so  as  to  show  all  their  milk-white 
teeth.  The  boats  are  apple-green  and  scarlet,  and  they 
are  reflected  in  the  clear  still  water,  and  the  dragoman, 
who  marshals  all  the  party  into  them,  is  a  very  splendid 
person  indeed,  in  a  long  overcoat  of  turquoise  blue  cloth 
as  soft  and  fine  as  a  glove,  with  a  striped  gown  of  yellow 
Egyptian  silk  underneath. 

We  are  off  with  a  party  of  Cook's  tourists  to  explore 
the  Tombs  of  the  Kinjrs  on  the  other  side  of  the  river. 

It  is  a  pretty  stiff  day's  work,  so  we  arc  up  early,  and  it 

85 


^6         ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 


THE   FAT    LADY  ON    HER   DONKEY. 


is  only  half-past  eight  now.  As  we  near  the  other  side 
of  the  river  we  see  an  excited  group  of  donkey-boys  who 
have  brought  their  animals  over  earlier,  and  now  stand 
expectant,  looking  like  a  fringe  of  blue  beads. 

*'  Lily  best  donkey — Lily  name  for  Americans,  Merry 
Widow  for  Engleesh " 

"  Come,  lady,  with  me,  Sammy  best  donkey  in  Egypt, 
verry  good,  Sammy  my  donkey,  best  donkey " 

"  Kitchener,  lady,  best  donkey  in  Egypt,  me  speak 
verry  good  Engleesh,  alia  way  gallop." 

And  so  on  in  a  continuous  yell.  The  dragoman  shouts 
out  the  numbers  of  the  donkeys,  and  helps  the  ladies  of 
the  party  to  mount.  Some  ride  on  side-saddles,  others, 
unused  to  any  form  of  riding,  prefer  to  get  up  astride, 
which  they  find  difficult  in  the  tight  modern  skirts.  One 
German  girl,  after  a  frantic  attempt,  has  to  give  it  up,  and 
sits  wobbling  on  her  saddle  with  her  arms  round  the 
donkey-boy's  neck,  agonisingly  appealing  to  him  not  to 
move  !     A  very  stout  lady  in  black  is  lifted  on  to  her 


THE  CITY  OF  KINGS  Sy 

mount  by  the  united  efforts  of  the  dragoman  and  two 
donkey-boys,  and,  held  in  position  by  the  boys,  moves 
off,  threatening  a  convulsive  landslide  to  one  side  or  the 
other  at  every  step. 

We  are  lucky  in  securing  two  fine  greyish-white  animals, 
almost  as  large  as  mules  and  very  well  fed  and  kept ; 
yours  is  named  "  Sirdar  "  and  has  a  single  blue  bead 
slung  on  a  string  round  his  neck  as  a  charm,  while  mine, 
"  Tommy  Raffles,"  has  a  rattling  chain  of  yellow  and  blue 
beads  and  much  scarlet  wool  in  his  harness.  You  won't 
have  much  difficulty,  I  know,  as  you  have  been  used  to  a 
pony  since  you  could  walk. 

At  first  the  soft  powdery  sand  makes  the  going  stiff, 
and  we  have  much  difficulty  in  restraining  our  boys,  who 
run  behind,  from  smacking  or  prodding  the  donkeys  as 
they  plough  through.  These  boys  are  very  proud  and 
fond  of  their  donkeys  and  treat  them  well,  but  it  is  the 
ambition  of  every  donkey-boy  to  see  his  donkey  head  the 
cavalcade,  and  he  is  ready  to  die  of  envy  and  mortifica- 
tion if  any  other  boy's  donkey  gets  in  front  of  him.  We 
pass  through  clouds  of  dusty  earth  and  then  turn  on  to 
uneven  narrow  ways  between  tall  green  stalks  of  growing 
dhurra,  stuff  which  looks  like  maize,  except  that  it  has  a 
heavy  head  of  grain  which  is  ground  up  for  making 
rough  bread  for  the  poorest  people. 

Along  by  a  canal,  over  a  bridge  and  a  railway  line  we 
gallop,  our  animals  going  well.  Their  trot  is  impossible, 
as  we  soon  find,  but  the  easy  loping  canter  delightful.  We 
pass  many  black-clad  women  working  in  the  fields,  with 
crowds  of  bright-eyed  friendly  children  who  nmrmur 
"  'Shish  "  in  the  vain  hope  that  we  may  throw  them  some 
money.  Then  we  see  herds  of  black  goats  in  among  the 
cut  stalks,  and  a  tethered  baby  camel,  who  looks  at  us 
with  innocent  wondering  eves. 

Far  off  rise  up  from  the  plain  two  mighty  seated  statues, 


88 


ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 


the  Colossi,  set  up  by  Amenhetep  iii.  as  part  of  a  temple 
now  vanished.  Presently  we  all  stop  to  see  another 
temple,  interesting  enough,  but  not  so  interesting  as  those 
already  visited  at  Luxor  and  Karnak. 

The  dragoman,  whose  work  is  not  easy,  brings  up  the 
rear  of  the  cavalcade,  having  managed  to  keep  even  behind 
the  fat  lady,  who  has  stuck  to  the  slippery  surface  of  her 

saddle  with  many  a  desper- 
ate plunge  firmly  resisted 
by  her  escort. 

The  dragoman  describes 
the  temple  fluently  and  in- 
telligently, first  in  English, 
then  in  French,  and  adds  a 
little  explanation  in  German 
for  the  benefit  of  two  men 
of  that  race  who  have  talked 
loudly  in  their  own  guttural 
tongue  all  the  time  he  has 
endeavoured  to  make  the 
rest  of  the  party  hear.  The 
dragoman  does  not  reel  his 
words  off  as  if  he  were  re- 
peating a  lesson,  as,  alas,  so 
many  of  the  guides  at  our 
own  cathedrals  do.  He  is  a 
clever  man,  well  educated 
and  capable.  It  has  taken 
him  years  to  learn  all  he  knows,  and  it  is  only  the  clever 
boys  who  can  become  good  dragomans.  One  of  our 
donkey-boys,  a  bright  little  fellow  who  speaks  far  better 
English  than  most  of  his  companions,  tells  us,  "  I  am 
going  to  be  a  dragoman."  He  says  it  deliberately,  with  a 
pause  between  each  word  to  get  them  correctly.  "  Thus  I 
speak  always  with  the  English  and  the  Americans.    To  the 


BOATMAN. 


THE  CITY  OF  KINGS  89 

English  I  speak  English,  which  is  what  I  have  learned, 
but  when  I  am  with  Americans  I  can  talk  to  them  in 
their  own  tongue  too." 

Laughing,  we  mount  and  are  off  again. 

We  are  now  penetrating  into  the  great  hills  of  sand- 
stone we  saw  afar  off  from  the  hotel.  The  road  winds  into 
a  gorge,  and  at  each  turn  displays  more  vivid  beauty. 
We  feel  a  strange  joy  rising  within  us,  so  that  we  would 
like  to  sing  or  shout  at  the  tops  of  our  voices.  The 
brilliance  of  the  air  shows  up  every  line  in  the  great  preci- 
pices of  orange-yellow,  streaked  w^ith  red  and  purple, 
which  rise  against  a  sky  of  thrilling  blue.  There  is  not  a 
blade  of  grass  or  a  leaf  to  be  seen  in  these  vast  solitudes, 
only  the  massive  stones,  broken  and  split  and  scattered, 
lie  in  the  fierce  sun  or  black  shadow.  We  can  imagine 
these  defiles  looking  much  the  same  when  three  or  four 
thousand  years  ago  the  funeral  procession  of  one  of  the 
mighty  Pharaohs  wound  its  way  into  the  heart  of  the 
mountains,  carrying  the  man  who  had  never  kno^vn 
opposition  or  denied  himself  his  slightest  wish.  They 
were  very  magnificent  these  processions,  composed  of 
hundreds  of  people  who  carried  all  sorts  of  things — furni- 
ture, chariots,  boats,  animals,  fruit  and  flowers  —  with 
tremendous  ceremony. 

It  is  a  longish  ride  before  we  alight  again,  and  leaving 
the  donkeys  under  a  slight  straw  shelter  penetrate  into  the 
fastnesses  of  the  hills. 

How  many  of  these  rock-tombs  were  made  here  will 
probably  never  be  known,  but  year  by  year  more  are 
uncovered.  The  hrst  we  step  into  is  like  a  large  well- 
lighted  cave  cut  out  of  a  cliff -side,  from  it  opens  another 
cave-like  room,  and  from  that  another,  each  sloping 
downward  and  the  whole  series  giving  the  impression  of  a 
series  of  puzzle-boxes  fitting  into  one  another  and  then 
drawn  out.     The  walls  are  covered  with  i)ictures,  paintings 


90         ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

on  plaster,  not  outline  pictures  like  those  we  saw  in  the 
temples,  but  filled  in  with  blue  and  green,  orange  and  terra- 
cotta, laid  on  thickly,  and  as  fresh  as  the  day  they  were 
done.  Ever  descending  we  pass  on  until  we  reach  the  last 
chamber,  where  the  great  sarcophagus  or  coffin  of  the  king 
was  placed  right  up  against  the  face  of  the  rock.  The 
sarcophagus  might  be  a  mighty  block  of  granite,  enclosing 
a  wooden  case,  and  that  again  another  case,  probably 
carved  and  gilt,  and  finally,  as  a  kernel,  there  was  the  body 
of  the  king,  preserved  and  dried  by  spices,  lying  awaiting 
the  final  resurrection.  The  Egyptians  believed  in  a  future 
world,  but  they  could  not  imagine  a  future  world  without 
there  being  human  bodies  in  it  such  as  we  have  now, 
so  they  took  infinite  trouble  in  preserving  the  dead  body 
that  it  might  be  ready  for  its  time  of  call.  Most  of  the 
sarcophagi  from  these  tombs  have  been  removed  and  taken 
to  the  museum  at  Cairo,  but  in  one  to  which  we  penetrate, 
hewn  out  at  a  slope  so  steep  that  we  have  difficulty  in 
keeping  our  feet  as  we  slither  down,  the  mummy  has  been 
replaced  and  is  left  uncovered. 

Lit  up  by  electric  light  we  see  King  Amenhetep  ii., 
with  his  skin  blackened  to  a  parchment,  drawn  tightly 
over  his  chiselled  aristocratic  features.  In  the  dome- 
shaped  forehead,  the  Roman  nose,  and  the  tightly  com- 
pressed lips  there  is  an  expression  of  infinite  disdain,  as 
if  he,  in  his  time  the  mightiest  ruler  in  the  world  and 
the  leader  of  civilisation,  knew  that  now  he  was  exposed 
to  the  gaze  of  a  party  of  outer  barbarians  whose  national 
histories  were  but  of  mushroom  growth.  This  king  struck 
terror  into  the  hearts  of  his  enemies  ;  he  raided  the  land  of 
Syria,  slew  seven  chiefs  with  his  own  hand  and  brought 
them  back  to  Thebes,  hanging  head  downward  from  the 
bows  of  his  boat  ! 

The  very  day  after  a  king  ascended  the  throne  he  used 
to  begin  hewing  out  the  sepulchre  where  he  should  lie. 


THE  CITY  OF  KINGS  91 

The  scenes  drawn  on  the  walls  show  what  he  expected  to 
find  in  the  other  world.  We  see  a  pair  of  scales  with  the 
heart  of  the  dead  man  in  one  balance  and  a  feather  in  the 
other ;  a  monkey  sits  on  the  top  and  adjusts  the  weight. 
The  heart  must  weigh  the  feather  exactly,  for  to  be  over- 
righteous  was  as  bad  as  being  wdcked  !  The  dead  man  also 
had  to  pass  before  forty-two  judges,  who  each  examined 
him  searchingly  as  to  whether  he  had  committed  one 
particular  sin.  As  one  of  the  party  remarked  in  an  awe- 
struck voice,  "  And  if  he  did  pass  them  all  safely  and 
another  started  up  and  asked  him  if  he  ever  told  a  lie 
he'd  be  done,  for  no  man  could  deny  that  he  had 
committed  any  of  the  forty-two  principal  sins  and  remain 
truthful  !  " 

To  accompany  the  soul  to  the  other  world  many  things 
used  to  be  buried  in  the  tombs,  clothes  and  food  and 
utensils  and  weapons,  and,  thanks  to  this  custom,  number- 
less things  have  been  saved  to  show  us  how  the  ancient 
Egyptians  lived.  These,  however,  have  mostly  been  taken 
to  Cairo  for  safe  keeping.  But  here  in  Amenhetep's 
tomb  one  thing  has  been  left.  In  a  small  side  chamber, 
with  the  light  falling  full  upon  them,  are  three  mummies, 
each  with  a  hole  in  the  skull  and  a  gash  on  the  breast, 
showing  that  they  were  the  king's  slaves,  killed  in  order 
that  their  souls  might  accompany  him  and  serve  him 
beyond  the  tomb  ! 

They  lie  there  with  their  hair  still  on  their  heads,  and 
even  the  false  hair,  they  used  to  increase  it,  showing ;  on 
their  faces  is  a  ghastly  grin.  We  wonder  if  they  submitted 
quietly,  proud  of  having  been  chosen,  or  if  each  fought 
fiercely  for  the  life  whicii  belonged  to  him  and  was  not 
any  man's  to  take  away. 

It  is  very  hot  and  close  down  in  tlic  rock-hewn  chanibcr, 
and  we  are  glad  enough  to  stumble  up  and  out  again, 
tliough  we  are  bhndcd  by  the  sunshine  as  wc  emerge. 


92         ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

The  next  part  of  the  day  is  the  hardest  of  all,  for  we 
scramble  up  a  mountain-side  to  gain  a  splendid  view  of 
gorges  and  valleys  on  one  side  and  the  fiat  plain  spreading 
to  the  Nile  on  the  other.  The  view  is  indescribable  ;  from 
lemon-yellow  to  orange  and  saffron  are  the  hills,  with  blue- 
grey  shadows  in  their  folds.  Right  opposite  is  one  abso- 
lutely perpendicular,  with  immense  rounded  columns 
looking  like  giant  organ  pipes  rising  on  its  face.  A  fresh 
wind  is  blowing,  and  when  we  mount  our  donkeys,  which 
have  come  round  to  meet  us  another  way,  and  ride  along  a 
path  a  few  feet  wide,  with  no  fence  of  any  kind  and  a  drop 
of  some  hundreds  of  feet  on  one  side,  we  are  devoutly 
thankful  that  the  German  girl  and  the  stout  lady  went 
round  the  other  and  longer  way  by  the  valley  ! 

Over  the  summit  the  donkeys  are  set  free  to  get  down 
the  steep  descent  as  best  they  may,  and  they  are  as  sure- 
footed as  goats,  but  we  who  follow  find  considerable  diffi- 
culty as  the  loose  stone  and  sand  fall  away  in  miniature 
avalanches  from  beneath  our  slipping  feet  and  we  get  very 
hot.  We  are  sheltered  here  from  that  fresh  wind  which  is 
such  a  joy  in  Egypt,  the  sun  is  at  its  height,  and  we  have 
done  a  good  morning's  work  already  after  an  early  start. 
There,  far  below,  looking  like  a  doll's  house,  is  the  rest- 
house  where  we  lunch,  and  beside  it  two  of  the  men  of  the 
Mounted  Police  Camel  Corps  in  khaki  on  their  long- 
legged  beasts. 

Whew  !  That  last  bit  was  tough  !  I  am  glad  to 
get  a  long  drink  and  equally  glad  to  go  on  after  it  to  an 
excellent  cold  lunch  which  has  been  brought  to  meet  us. 
Hard-boiled  eggs,  salad,  cold  meat  and  fruit  !  We  try 
them  all  and  then  rest  on  the  verandah  looking  at  the 
towering  orange  cliffs  which  hem  us  in.  They  seem  to 
hang  right  over  that  little  temple  near,  to  which  we  shall 
presently  pay  a  visit.  That  is  the  temple  of  Der  El 
Bahari   and   was   built   by   Hatshepset,   the   greatest   of 


THE  CITY  OF  KINGS 


93 


Egyptian  queens.     Hatshepset  was  the  daughter  of  one 

king  and  the  wife  of  another,   and  after  her  husband's 

death    she    ruled    for    about    sixteen    years.     She    made 

expeditions  to  the  Red  Sea  and  acted  in  every  way  Hke  a 

man.      In  the  drawings  of  her  on  the  temple  wall  she  is 

represented  as  a   man  and  is   dressed   in  man's  clothes. 

When  her  son-in-law,  Thothmes  iii.,  who  had  married  her 

daughter,    succeeded    her, 

he  scratched  out  her  name 

wherever  he   found  it  and 

chiselled  out  the   pictures 

of  her.     He  had  evidently 

had  a  bad  time  while  she 

lived,   but    he    must    have 

been   a   small-minded   and 

spiteful  man  to  take  that 

petty    revenge    after    her 

death  ! 

On  the  way  home  across 
the  dhurra  fields  I  see  you 
stop  riding  suddenly  and 
stare  intently  down  at 
something  on  the  ground. 
I  think  at  first  it  is  a  scor- 
pion you  have  found  on  the 
patch  of  light-coloured 
sand,    but    it    is    only    an 

immense  black  beetle,  with  a  strong  horny  skin  and  a 
horn  or  trumpet -shaped  excrescence  on  the  front  part  of 
its  head.  He  belongs  to  the  scarabaeus,  or  dung-beetles, 
and  big  fellows  they  are ;  tliis  one  would  just  about  cover 
the  palm  of  your  hand.  The  Egyptians  called  one  of  their 
gods  Khepera,  or  the  beetle,  and  believed  him  to  be  the 
creator  of  all  things,  so  they  used  to  make  images  of  these 
beetles  and  put  them  in  their  temples;   you  saw  a  huge 


A  SOLEMN  GIRI--CHILD. 


94    ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

one,  you  remember,  on  a  pedestal  at  Karnak,  and  any 
time  you  are  in  London  you  can  see  them  at  the  British 
Museum.  There  were  also  tiny  images  of  them  made  in 
stone  and  amethyst  and  porcelain,  and  almost  anything 
else,  and  these  were  frequently  buried  in  the  tombs  with 
the  mummies.  Sometimes  they  had  the  name  of  the  per- 
son with  whom  they  were  buried  inscribed  on  the  back  in 
hieroglyphic  writing,  or  the  name  of  a  god.  These  scarabs, 
as  they  are  called,  are  bought  and  worn  in  rings  and  orna- 
ments by  visitors.  The  natives  quickly  found  out  that 
there  was  a  demand  for  them,  and  as  they  could  not  always 
find  old  genuine  ones  they  set  to  work  to  make  them  I 
Hundreds  of  new  ones  are  palmed  off  as  old  in  this  way 
on  unsuspecting  tourists. 

"  Scarab !  " 

A  solemn  girl-child  clad  in  a  rust-coloured  garment 
has  come  up  on  seeing  our  donkeys  halt  and  holds  out 
a  brilliant  blue  scarab  for  sale  in  a  hot  little  hand. 
She  nods  violently,  repeating,  "  Scarab  !  Verry  old." 
"  Found  in  tombs,"  says  our  donkey-boy  gravely,  willing 
to  help  her  to  take  us  in.  He  picks  it  up  and  pretends  to 
examine  it  carefully,  "  Genuine  anteekar,"  he  pronounces. 
Laughing,  we  hand  the  "genuine  antique"  back  to  its 
owner,  knowing  that  it  is  probably  "  genuine  Birmingham," 
and  then  we  canter  after  the  rest  of  the  party. 


A  NILE  STEAMER. 


CHAPTER    VIII 


ON    THE    NILE 


In  my  cars  is  the  sound  as  of  the  tuning  up  of  a  thousand 
fiddles  !  I  hear  the  agonising  scrape  of  strings,  the  squeal 
of  the  bows  !  I  have  heard  it  all  before  at  many  a  concert, 
but  this  time  it  is  intensified  a  thousandfold  and  pene- 
trates even  into  mv  dreams.  I  imagine  I  am  in  a  concert 
hall  and  spring  up  wildly  with  the  intention  of  getting 
outside  until  the  music  begins,  but  the  movement  wakes 
me,  and  behold  I  am  not  at  a  concert  in  London  on  a  dim 
Sunday  afternoon,  but  in  a  brilliantly  white  two-berth 
cabin  with  the  sun  flooding  in  through  the  square  window  ! 
Peering  out  I  sec  we  are  running  smoothly  along  up- 
stream close  in  to  a  high  mud  bank,  and  that  is  where  the 
noise  comes  from.  It  is  caused  by  the  squeaking  of  one 
wooden  rod  against  another  as  hundreds  of  Egyptian 
fellaheen  raise  the  water  from  the  Nile  to  moisten  their 
crops. 

It  is  not  long  before  we  are  both  dressed  and  out  to 

95 


96         ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  AVORLD 

examine  the  curious  sight.  The  banks  are  about  the  height 
of  a  high  room,  and  at  the  distance  of,  it  may  be,  fifty  yards, 
all  the  way  along  them  there  are  deep  cuts  like  miniature 
denes,  or  chines,  running  down  to  the  water.  At  the  foot 
of  each  of  these  a  brown-skinned  man  stands  with  his  bare 
feet  at  the  edge  of  the  water,  gripping  with  his  toes  to  save 
himself  from  slipping  in  the  mud.  At  this  time  in  the 
morning  he  is  clothed  in  a  quantity  of  garments,  mostly 
mud-colour,  but  as  the  sun  grows  strong  he  throws  them 
aside  and  stands  forth  a  fine  bronze  statue  with  his  skin 
gleaming  in  the  clear  light.  Just  above  his  head  there  is  a 
pole  bridging  the  cut,  or  chine,  and  fastened  to  the  middle 
of  it  at  right  angles  is  another,  which  swings  up  and  down 
upon  it  like  a  see-saw. 

A  huge  lump  of  mud  like  a  swollen  football  is  plastered 
on  to  the  far  end  of  this,  and  at  the  other  end  a  basket  or 
basin  made  of  skin  is  attached  to  a  string.  The  mud  ball 
is  heavy,  and  when  it  is  allowed  to  go  free  it  hangs  down 
to  the  ground ;  but  the  brown  man  constantly  reaches  up 
and  raises  it  by  pulling  down  the  basin,  which  he  dips  in 
the  Nile  water,  then  lets  the  heavy  end  swing  it  up  as 
high  as  his  head,  when  he  tips  it  up,  and  the  water  from  it 
flows  into  a  pool  at  that  height.  Another  man  stands  on 
the  edge  of  this  pool  and  he  has  a  similar  arrangement,  by 
means  of  which  he  raises  the  water  out  of  the  pool  with  a 
basin  like  the  first,  and  there  may  be  another  above  him, 
and  another  again.  This  primitive  arrangement  is  called 
a  shaduf,  and  by  its  means  the  water  from  the  Nile  is 
lifted  up  to  the  surface  of  the  fields,  where  it  runs  away  in 
miniature  channels  to  water  the  roots  of  the  maize.  This 
is  one  of  the  most  extraordinary  sights  in  the  world. 
Think  of  all  the  mills  in  which  machinery  does  delicate 
work  like  that  of  the  human  hand  ;  think  of  the  patterns 
made  by  the  machines,  of  the  newspapers  printed  and 
folded   with  very  little  human  guidance,   and  then  leap 


ON  THE  NILE 


97 


SHADUF. 


back  to  this  clumsy  device  used  now  by  tlie  Egyptian 
as  it  was  used  by  his  ancestors  thousands  of  years  ago  ! 
A  few  pints  of  muddy  water  raised  by  a  weight,  half  of  it 
falling  out  of  the  badly  constructed  basin  as  it  goes,  and 
the  same  drop  of  water  handled  again  and  again  by  four 
men  till  the  tiny  trickle  reaches  the  fields !  We  watcli 
with  amazement.  The  shrieking  and  squeaking  of  the 
shadujs  goes  on,  the  brown  figures  stoop  down,  rise  again, 
and  swing  with  regularity,  minute  after  minute.  We 
steam  on  round  the  next  corner  and  see  more  of  them  and 
yet  more  again  ;  how  many  liave  we  not  seen  already 
in  the  short  time  we  have  been  on  deck  ?  Multiply  tluit 
times  without  number  for  all  the  miles  we  came  up  by 
train  and  double  it  to  include  botli  banks  !  Imagination 
gives  way  I 
7 


98    ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 


li 


I  can't  bear  it,"  says  the  nice  American  who  was  in 
the  train  with  us  and  has  now  joined  us  in  the  trip  up  to 
Assouan  in  one  of  Cook's  steamers.  "  It's  maddening  ! 
Why  can't  a  whole  village  form  a  company  and  get  some 
sort  of  machine  to  work  ?  It  would  water  all  their  crops 
in  a  tenth  of  the  time." 

As  he  speaks  there  comes  into  view  something  just  a 
little  better.  At  the  top  of  one  of  the  deep  cuts  on  the 
bank  two  bullocks  plod  slowly  round  and  round  in  a  circle 
as  if  they  were  threshing  corn  ;  they  work  a  wheel,  which 
revolves  horizontally  and  is  fitted  into  another  which  turns 
vertically,  deep  down  into  the  hole  it  reaches,  low  enough 
to  touch  the  water  at  the  bottom.  Earthenware  jars  are 
strung  all  round  it  like  beads  on  a  necklet,  and  as  each  pot 
dips  into  the  water  it  brings  up  its  share,  and  when  it 
reaches  the  highest  point  it  tips  it  into  a  little  channel, 
where  it  runs  away.  This  is  called  a  saddiyeh.  The 
wheels  groan  and  creak,  the  patient  beasts  turn  in  their 
dizzy  circle,  and  the  youngster  seated  on  the  wheel  prods 
them  with  a  sharp-pointed  stick  when  they  slacken.  At 
least  the  water  runs  away  in  a  continuous  stream  at  the 
top,  however  tiny. 

Then  the  steamer  takes  a  sharp  turn,  leaves  the  bank, 
and  careers  across  into  midstream !  We  go  up  on  to  the 
top  deck  and  see  three  dark-skinned  men,  warmly  wrapped 
up  in  brown  coats,  sitting  in  a  little  glasshouse  in  the  bows 
and  watching  earnestly  the  channel  ahead. 

This  is  the  reis,  or  captain,  with  his  two  assistants. 
They  know  every  turn  and  dip  in  the  river ;  but  the  river 
changes  ever,  no  two  days  is  it  alike  as  it  falls  and  washes 
away  a  bank  or  deposits  sand  so  as  to  make  an  island  where 
none  was  before.  So  the  three  men  watch  intently  and 
steer  the  boat  to  this  side  and  that  wherever  they  can  find 
the  deepest  channel.  The  Nile  is  low  for  this  time  of  year 
and  caution  is  necessary  ;    when  there  is  any  doubt  as  to 


ON  THE  NILE  99 

there  being  enough  water,  one  of  the  crew  below  handles 
a  long  pole,  dipping  it  in  to  find  the  bottom  and  calling 
out  the  depth  as  he  goes. 

There  are  twenty  passengers  or  so  on  the  boat  and 
they  sit  about  the  sunny  decks  watching  the  panorama  of 
the  banks  and  the  wonderful  changing  scenes  ahead,  hour 
by  liour.  Hardly  anywhere  would  you  find  a  greater 
variety  of  nationalities  than  on  one  of  these  Nile  boats, 
for  Egypt  draws  people  from  all  parts  of  the  world  with  her 
mystery  and  beauty.  The  odd  people  one  meets  add  to 
the  interest,  and  the  strange  manners,  which  are  not  ours, 
are  like  flavouring  in  the  dish  of  travel,  which,  if  it  were 
composed  only  of  scenes  of  perpetual  beauty,  might  be  a 
little  insipid. 

To  begin  with,  I  am  English  and  you  are  Scottish,  we 
have  our  friend  the  American  and  four  of  his  compatriots, 
not  by  any  means  so  delightful  as  he  is.  He  takes  care  to 
steer  clear  of  them,  we  notice  !  One  of  them  is  a  little  man 
who  might  be  any  age  from  twenty  to  fifty ;  if  we  examine 
him  with  field-glasses  we  shouldn't  be  able  to  discover  how 
old  lie  is.  His  yellow  skin,  drawn  tightly  over  a  bony  face, 
gives  no  sign  of  age  or  youth.  He  eats  sweets  all  day  out 
of  a  box  as  large  as  a  child's  coffin,  and  he  is  attended  by 
three  stout  ladies,  doubtless  "  his  mother  and  his  aunts." 
They  are  veiled  and  swathed  in  wraps,  and  seem  to  spend 
their  time  gossiping  or  asleep  in  the  innermost  recesses  of  the 
cabin.  We  never  once  catch  them  admiring  the  scenery 
or  taking  any  interest  in  the  wonders  we  pass.  Then 
there  is  a  Swiss,  a  gentle-mannered  bronzed  man  with  a 
brown  beard  ;  he  speaks  only  French,  and  in  an  unob- 
trusive way  seems  to  have  seen  a  great  deal  of  the  world  ;  we 
discover,  for  one  thing,  that  he  has  lived  out  in  tlic  desert 
near  Tunis  for  many  years.  Tlicrc  are  three  Russians, 
mother,  father,  and  daugliter,  who  speak  practically 
notliing  but  Russian,  with  a  few  words  of  French  ;    lliey 


loo   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

are  brave  to  have  started  out  on  such  a  journey  so  ill- 
equipped.  Coming  across  a  Russian  dragoman  in  Cairo 
they  trusted  him  joyfully ;  he  bought  three  temple 
tickets  for  them  at  their  expense  and  promised  to  meet 
them  somewhere  up  the  Nile.  They  seem  to  expect  to 
find  him  sitting  on  every  sandbank,  and  their  faith  is 
pathetic  ;  they'll  never  see  those  tickets  again,  for  the 
man  will  sell  them  to  the  next  party  of  victims.  Then 
there  is  a  Belgian,  also  a  couple  of  lively  pleasant  French 
people,  and  two  Germans,  a  sister  and  brother,  who  dress 
in  clothes  intended  to  be  very  sporting. 

It  is  an  interesting  crowd,  and  it  is  well  kept  in  hand 
by  the  manager,  who  looks  like  a  fair-haired,  brown-faced 
boy  of  two-and-twenty,  but  has  been  everywhere  and 
speaks  half  a  dozen  languages  fluently.  In  addition  to 
this  he  sketches  in  water  colours,  plays  the  fiddle,  and  breaks 
in  horses  !  You  have  to  travel  to  come  across  people  like 
that !  Here  he  is  nothing  so  out  of  the  way — every  drago- 
man is  able  to  talk  in  three  languages  at  least.  Doesn't 
it  spur  you  on  to  feel  how  much  we  have  to  learn  and  how 
ignorant  we  are  in  our  stay-at-home  villages  ? 

All  the  morning  we  sit  about  and  watch  the  graceful 
white-sailed  boats  coming  down  with  cargoes  of  every 
kind.  Sometimes  we  see  them  stranded  on  a  hidden 
sandbank  with  the  crew  making  frantic  efforts  to  get  them 
off  again.  We  see  the  reaches  lying  ahead  glittering  like 
jewels  in  the  sun,  and  then  we  land  and  ride  a  short  way 
to  a  temple,  under  the  care  of  the  dragoman  of  the  boat. 
The  most  moving  thing  in  all  that  temple  is  a  set  of  scenes 
of  a  hippopotamus  hunt  shown  with  great  spirit ;  the 
poor  little  hippo  looks  more  like  a  pig  when  he  is  at  the 
bottom  of  the  water  with  a  spear  or  harpoon  sticking  in 
him,  but  when  they  haul  him  up  by  means  of  a  noose 
round  one  leg  the  ancient  artist  represents  him  becoming 
bigger  and  bigger  as  he  comes  to  the  surface  ! 


ON  THE  NILE  loi 

The  walls  are,  besides,  covered  with  all  the  usual  scenes 
of  the  king  making  offerings  to  the  gods,  and  overriding 
his  enemies,  and  doing  all  those  noble  things  which  kings 
wanted  their  posterity  to  know  about  them. 

A  high-pitched  voice,  speaking  in  a  hyper-refined 
affected  tone,  breaks  in  on  our  enjoyment ;  it  belongs  to 
one  of  the  English  people  from  the  boat,  a  lady  who  evi- 
dently considers  it  her  mission  in  life  to  instruct  people ; 
information  flows  from  her  ten  finger-tips,  she  cannot 
help  it,  she  was  born  to  be  a  schoolmistress  certainly. 

"  That  is  the  crown  of  Upper  and  Lower  Egypt,"  she 
says,  "that  the  king  is  wearing;  sometimes  you  see  him 
with  one  and  sometimes  with  the  other,  here  he  has  both 
together." 

As  this  is  about  the  first  thing  a  dragoman  tells  anyone 
in  the  first  temple  he  sees,  and  as  it  is  repeated  at  least 
once  at  every  temple  afterwards,  only  an  idiot  could  fail 
to  know  it.  We  murmur  something  politely  and  turn 
away.  Round  a  corner  we  stop  to  admire  the  rich  colour 
still  left  in  the  ceiling,  where  a  heavenly  blue,  covered  with 
golden  stars,  represents  the  sky. 

"  When  we  were  here  three  years  ago,"  says  the  lady 
at  our  elbows,  "  they  had  not  uncovered  those  pillars,  but 
we  are  told — that — ^ — " 

The  peace  and  beauty  are  spoilt  !  Again  we  murmur 
something  and  make  a  dive  to  get  away,  but  are  con- 
fronted by  a  clean-shaven  man  in  glasses.  "  When  we 
were  here  three  years  ago,"  he  begins,  "  perhaps  my  wife 
has  told  you " 

It  is  rude,  but  there  is  nothing  for  it  but  to  bolt ;  people 
like  that  would  take  the  effervescence  off  newly  opened 
champagne  !  We  leave  them  confronting  each  other, 
and  wonder  what  they  do  when  tliey  are  alone  together  I 
Do  they  force  tlicir  mixture  of  guidebook  and  water  on 
each  other  ? 


I02   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 


THE  DAM   AT   ASSOUAN. 


When  we  look  back  upon  Egypt  these  river  days  will 
stand  out  most  clearly,  for  the  glory  of  them  and  the 
interest  of  them  are  unfailing.  We  have  to  leave  this 
boat  at  Assouan,  but  we  shall  come  back  and  go  right 
down  the  Nile  to  Cairo  on  our  return  journey,  so  that  is 
something  to  look  forward  to. 

At  Assouan  we  are  not  going  to  stop  but  to  change 
on  to  another  steamer,  one  belonging  to  the  Government 
this  time,  and  we  shall  penetrate  farther  into  the  heart 
of  the  land  to  see  something,  which,  after  the  Sphinx, 
is  the  most  wonderful  thing  in  Egypt. 

But  we  can't  step  off  one  steamer  on  to  another,  for 
at  Assouan  is  the  first  of  the  many  cataracts  that  for 
ages  has  hindered  the  navigation  of  the  Nile.  The  river, 
hemmed  in  between  two  rocky  sides,  tears  down,  dashing 
over  stones  and  whirling  round  corners  in  a  dangerous 
way.  So  the  steamer  for  the  upper  part  of  the  river  waits 
above  the  cataract  and  we  have  to  make  a  short  train 
journey  of  half  an  hour  or  so  to  join  it. 

Picture  the  scene  at  an  English  railway  station  of  any 
size,  with  its  solidly-built   platform  and  its  gloomy  roof 


ON  THE  NILE  103 

and  its  row  of  uniformed  porters  drawn  up  waiting  the 
arrival  of  the  incoming  train.  I  don't  suppose  anywhere 
you  could  find  anything  less  like  this  than  the  station 
at  Assouan  where  we  await  our  train  this  afternoon. 
There  are  great  palm  trees  springing  out  of  the  platform 
itself,  not  fenced  in  in  any  way.  There  are  masses  of 
scarlet  poinsettias  growing.  And  the  porters  !  yes,  they 
are  porters,  not  criminals  waiting  to  be  hanged  !  There 
they  stand,  a  ragged  regiment  indeed,  dressed  in  any  sort 
of  garment  that  takes  their  fancy.  Most  of  them  look  as 
if  they  had  collected  all  the  dish-clouts  and  dusters 
which  had  seen  service  and  piled  them  on  anyhow.  To 
add  to  their  adornment  each  man  has  a  double  coil  of 
shabby-looking  rope  hung  round  his  neck,  this  is  to  fasten 
together  the  luggage  he  hopes  to  carry.  The  men  are  of 
all  sizes  and  all  colours.  That  good-looking  fellow  at 
the  end  is  not  darker  than  a  sun-browned  Englishman, 
while  that  stout,  round-faced,  thick-lipped  one  next  to 
him  is  as  black  as  the  polished  boot  seen  in  an  advertise- 
ment. He  is  a  Nubian,  for  here  we  are  on  the  borders 
of  Nubia,  now  counted  part  of  Egypt.  The  porters  are 
making  a  tremendous  hullabaloo,  chattering  and  quarrelling 
at  the  tops  of  their  voices,  so  a  native  policeman  in  khaki 
comes  along  and  smacks  one  of  them  hard  on  the  side  of 
his  face,  and  then  catches  him  a  crack  on  the  other  side  to 
make  him  keep  his  balance ;  the  man  does  not  resent  it 
at  all — he  rubs  his  cheek  and  takes  the  hint.  Fancy  a 
policeman  in  our  country  smacking  a  porter  on  the  face; 
what  a  row  there  would  be  ! 

Here  is  the  train  !  The  engine-driver  and  his  mate 
are  dressed  in  shabby  European  clothes  crowned  by 
turbans  which  have  gaudy  orange  and  red  handkerchiefs 
twisted  round  them.  They  get  down  on  the  platform, 
and  suddenly  the  fireman  sees  a  rather  unpleasant-looking 
man,   with  a  beard,  standing  away  from  the  otiicrs ;   he 


I04   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

rushes  at  him,  bows  low  before  him,  and  finally  kisses 
both  his  hands.  The  man  is  probably  a  sheikh  of  the 
Mohammedan  church. 

The  train  is  a  corridor  one,  and  we  mount  the  platform 
at  the  end  of  a  carriage  and  find  ourselves  in  a  compart- 
ment thick  with  dust,  where  the  seats  vary  from  straight 
leather-covered  benches  to  comfortable-looking  basket- 
chairs.  The  place  is  crammed  with  "  kit  "  ;  dispatch- 
boxes,  helmet-cases,  sword-cases  and  leather  bags  fill  every 
corner. 

**  Allow  me,"  says  a  pleasant-voiced  sunburnt  man  as 
he  stoops  to  remove  some  of  his  things  to  make  room  for 
us.  "  We've  come  right  up  from  Cairo  and  things  get  a 
bit  scattered,"  he  adds  apologetically. 

When  we  get  clear  of  the  town  we  find  that  in  addition 
to  glass  windows  and  wooden  shutters  there  are  also 
windows  of  blue  glass  to  keep  off  the  glare,  a  splendid 
idea,  as  they  do  not  hinder  the  view.  One  of  these  is  up, 
and  peeping  through  it  we  get  our  first  real  glimpse  of  the 
desert,  transformed  as  if  it  lay  beneath  bright  moonlight. 
From  the  other  side  we  can  see  it  as  it  is  in  its  yellow  colour- 
ing. How  fascinating  !  Its  runs  away  in  sweeping  low 
waves  to  a  line  of  hills  and  is  crossed  by  caravan  tracks ; 
even  as  we  watch  we  see  a  man  riding  a  small  donkey 
ahead  of  a  string  of  camels  laden  with  huge  bales.  The 
railway  is  still  but  a  small  thing  in  Egypt ;  it  runs  right 
ahead,  with  few  side-lines,  and  from  it  the  desert  tracks 
lead  off  in  many  directions.  The  camel,  who  has  been 
the  bearer  of  Egyptian  traffic  for  generations,  still  does  a 
large  share  of  the  transport.  A  good  camel  is  expensive, 
but  a  man  who  owns  one  is  sure  of  a  livelihood,  for  he 
works  backwards  and  forwards  across  the  great  solitudes, 
eating  his  handful  of  dates  or  grain,  and  drinking  the 
water  he  carries  with  him,  if  he  is  not  lucky  enough  to 
camp  near  a  well.     Oddly  enough  camels  are  not  repre- 


ON  THE  NILE 


lO' 


MEN   OF   THE    BISHARIN   TRIBE. 


sented  on  the  wall-drawings  of  the  ancient  Egyptians, 
and  though  it  is  true  they  were  probably  not  to  be  found 
in  the  country  in  the  very  earliest  times,  yet  they  were 
certainly  introduced  as  early  as  the  horse,  who  is  often 
shown  in  battle-scenes. 

What  rivets  our  attention  directly  it  comes  into  sight 
is  an  encampment  of  low  mat  huts  like  beehives  right  out 
in  the  midst  of  the  sand. 

"  Those  belong  to  the  Bisharin,"  says  the  same  fair- 
haired,  keen-faced  man  who  had  first  spoken;  "tribe  of 
fuzzy- wuzzies  !  They  extend  riglit  away  from  licrc  to 
the  Red  Sea.     Live  on  raw  grain  mostly.     Quaint  lot  !  " 

Some  of  the  men  from  the  camp  are  standing  near  the 
railway  line,  so  we  can  see  them  well  ;  they  are  very  tall 
and  extremely  handsome,  with  well-cut  features  and  well- 


io6       ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

proportioned  figures.  Their  hair  is  cut  exactly  after  the 
fashion  of  the  palm  trees,  with  a  tuft  standing  up  in  the 
middle  and  two  tufts  dropping  away  from  it  on  each  side. 
These  men  are  quiet  enough  now  that  they  have  learnt 
the  British  power,  but  not  so  long  ago  they  were  inflamed 
with  fanatical  hatred. 

You  have  heard  of  the  dervishes  who  were  killed  in 
thousands  at  Omdurman,  outside  Khartoum,  in  the  great 
battle  at  which  Lord  Kitchener  won  his  title  when  he 
freed  the  Soudan  from  the  power  of  the  Mahdi  ?  Now, 
having  seen  the  Bisharin,  you  can  imagine  what  dervishes 
looked  like.  For  they  dressed  their  hair  in  the  same  way, 
they  wore  the  same  dirty-white  garments,  and  as  they 
came  yelling  onward  at  a  run,  brandishing  their  weapons, 
it  must  have  taken  some  courage  for  the  Egyptian  soldiers 
to  meet  them  steadily. 

All  the  men  in  the  carriage  with  us  are  going  on  up 
to  Khartoum  and  beyond.  They  are  soldiers,  administra- 
tors, and  Government  officials,  men  whose  lives  are  passed 
on  the  outposts  of  civilisation,  and  who  carry  the  British 
ideals  of  cleanliness,  honesty,  and  straight -dealing  far 
into  the  desert ;  but  they  do  not  talk  about  it,  as  Kipling 
says  they  speak  : — "  After  the  use  of  the  English  in 
straight -flung  words  and  few — " 

"  Go  to  your  work  and  be  strong,  halting  not  in  your  ways. 
Baulking  the  end  half  won  for  an  instant  dole  of  praise. 
Stand  to  your  work  and  be  wise — certain  of  sword  and  pen. 
Who  are  neither  children  nor  gods,  but  men  in  a  world  of  men." 

Khartoum  is  the  capital  of  the  Soudan,  but  we  have 
not  arrived  in  the  Soudan  yet.  This  great  province  was 
won  from  barbarism  and  brutality  by  the  English,  who 
had  trained  and  commanded  the  Egyptian  army  for  the 
purpose  through  years  of  heart-breaking  work,  and  it  is 
held  jointly  by  England  and  Egypt. 

Then   we    arrive    at     Shellal,    the    station    where   the 


ON  THE  NILE  107 

steamer  waits,  and  in  a  moment  we  are  plunged  into  a 
turmoil  of  confusion  and  shouting. 

The  red  sun  is  setting  in  a  flame  of  glory  over  the  great 
lake-like  expanse  studded  with  black  rocks  ;  this  is  the 
huge  dam  or  reserve  of  water  held  up  for  the  use  of  the 
crops  when  the  Nile  goes  down.  The  scene  beggars  de- 
scription ;  bags,  bundles,  bales,  boxes  are  pitched  out 
pell-mell.  Gleaming  black  faces  are  lit  up  by  the  flames 
of  leaping  fires  lit  on  the  sand.  Petticoated  porters  thrust 
metal  numbers  at  us  so  that  we  may  be  able  to  recognise 
them  again  and  reclaim  our  luggage  safely.  We  make  our 
way  to  the  steamer  and  mount  to  the  first-class  deck  and 
look  down  on  the  whirl  of  turbans  and  red  fezes  (also  called 
tarbooshes)  below.  The  perpetual  chatter,  the  long  low 
cries,  the  beating  shout  of  men  staggering  under  heavy 
loads  make  up  a  resounding  din.  Clamped  boxes,  camp- 
chairs,  enamel  basins,  dispatch-boxes,  helmet-cases  are 
carried  swinging  up  the  gangway.  Here  is  a  man  wildly 
waving  a  gun-case  which  a  non  -  commissioned  officer 
wrenches  from  him  ;  another  is  struggling  under  a  folded 
tent,  the  end  of  which  catches  on  a  post  and  nearly  precipi- 
tates him  into  the  water.  Black  Nubian  sailors  in  white 
and  blue  jumpers  are  wrestling  with  an  endless  series  of 
mail-bags  ;  third-class  passengers,  lost  under  piles  of 
bedding,  straggle  into  a  great  barge  alongside.  In  the 
midst  of  it  all  one  sailor  detaches  himself  a  little  from  the 
rest  and  drops  down  on  his  knees  on  the  quay,  prostrating 
himself  and  bowing  with  his  forehead  to  the  ground ;  he 
rises  again,  stands  straight,  with  head  erect,  then  down  he 
goes  again.  He  is  praying  at  sunset,  as  a  good  Moham- 
medan is  told  to  do.  No  one  notices  him  or  ridicules  him. 
What  would  happen  to  an  English  sailor  who  knelt  to  say 
his  prayers  on  an  English  dock  ?  We  feel  that  we  have 
some-tiling  to  learn  from  this  people,  who  are  at  all  events 
not  ashamed  of  their  religion. 


io8   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

A  man  is  selling  oranges  on  the  quay,  another  has 
large  round  flat  loaves  of  bread  tucked  well  under  his 
arms  and  hugged  against  his  body.  A  black  hand, 
extended  from  the  lowest  deck  beneath  us,  grasps  one  of 
these  loaves  and  begins  to  finger  it  with  a  view  to  pur- 
chase ;  we  cannot  see  the  owner  of  the  hand,  but  we  can 
see  his  fingers  feeling  cautiously  all  around  that  loaf ;  he 
nips  it  between  finger  and  thumb,  he  prods  it,  kneads  it, 
rubs  it,  and  finally,  when  no  inch  of  it  has  been  untouched, 
he  hands  over  reluctantly  a  small  coin  and  withdraws 
with  the  bread. 

"  Hope  that  isn't  for  us,"  says  the  cheerful  voice  of  a 
young  officer  leaning  over  the  rail  beside  us  in  the  dark. 
"  Think  I'll  cut  off  my  crust  at  dinner  to-night  on  the  off- 
chance,  anyway  ! " 


cC^. 


AN   EGYPTIAN   SOLDIER. 


CHAPTER    IX 


A    MILLION    SUNRISES 


It  is  very  cold  and  quite  dark  when  I  wake.  The  steamer 
is  anchored  close  up  to  the  bank  and  not  a  sound  comes 
from  the  still  water.  My  blankets  are  very  comfortable ; 
it  can't  be  time  to  turn  out  yet.  It  is  an  effort  even  to 
stretch  out  a  hand  and  strike  a  light  to  see  my  watch — 
5.15  !     Yes,  we  ought  to  go  ! 

You  take  some  waking,  and  only  my  threat  of,  "  You'll 
never  get  another  chance  in  your  life,"  brings  you  out  of 
your  bunk  at  last. 

If  you've  ever  done  anything  nastier  than  li}  iiig  to 


109 


no   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

dress  against  time,  two  together  in  a  small  cabin  on  a  cold 
morning  in  the  pitch  dark,  I'd  like  to  know  it.  The  electric 
light  is  off,  because  the  engines  are  not  running,  and  there 
are  no  candles.  By  the  time  we've  got  into  some  sort 
of  clothing  we're  both  at  snarling-point.  Twice  I've  vio- 
lently tried  to  put  on  your  boots,  thinking  they  were 
mine,  and  I  know  you've  got  my  shirt  on,  because  I  couldn't 
find  it  and  had  to  drag  out  a  clean  one  ! 

A  walk  along  the  cold  dark  deck  and  across  a  slippery 
plank  to  the  mud  bank  does  not  improve  matters. 
Apparently  we  have  this  exhilarating  entertainment  all 
to  ourselves,  for  the  rest  of  the  fifteen  passengers  have 
not  appeared. 

The  sand  is  like  the  softest  silk,  and  it  seems  sometimes 
as  if  we  must  be  walking  backwards  so  little  headway  do 
we  make.  If  it  wasn't  for  this  icy  wind  I  should  think  I 
was  still  dreaming.  All  the  time  that  red  bar  in  the  east 
glows  steadily  brighter,  and  warns  us  that  if  we  want  to 
see  one  of  the  grandest  sights  in  the  world — Abu  Simbel  by 
sunrise — we  must  hurry  up. 

^'\^len  at  last  we  get  clear  of  the  sand  we  find  ourselves 
on  a  piece  of  ground  cut  up  by  cracks  wide  enough  to  put 
a  foot  in.  There  is  just  sufficient  light  to  keep  us  from 
twisting  our  ankles  if  we  walk  along  with  our  eyes  glued  to 
the  ground,  and  so  we  get  along  somehow,  till  suddenly 
we  stop — sunrise  is  here  ! 

A  considerable  distance  in  front  of  us  and  above  our 
level  we  see  three  mighty  seated  figures  and  the  remains 
of  a  fourth  in  a  flat  recess  chiselled  out  of  the  side  of  a 
great  rounded  cliff.  That  first  touch  of  dawn  has  tinged 
them  with  rosy  pink,  and  they  sit  with  their  faces  to  the 
sunrise,  which  they  must  have  seen  somewhere  about  one 
million  times  already.  Night  succeeding  day,  day  suc- 
ceeding night,  light  following  darkness,  darkness  following 
light,    thus   has   time    flickered   before   them   throughout 


A  MILLION  SUNRISES  in 

their  stupendous  age.  As  we  creep  nearer  and  climb 
higher  they  seem  to  rise  and  rise  in  size.  Silently  we  seat 
ourselves  on  a  stone,  forgetting  the  shivering  wind,  and 
we  stare  and  gaze  spellbound  at  the  triumphant  eager 
expression  on  those  mighty  features,  which,  as  the  dawn 
spreads,  softens  to  a  deep  complacence.  Then  the  pink 
changes  to  a  splendour  of  living  gold,  which  sweeps  over 
like  a  curtain,  and  the  full  majesty  of  them  strikes  us 
almost  like  a  blow. 

Their  expression  has  in  it  something  akin  to  that  of  all 
mighty  time-resisting  images  set  up  by  man  ;  it  is  found 
in  the  face  of  the  Sphinx  and  on  that  of  the  Buddhas  of 
the  East.  It  is  an  expression  of  soul-crushing  superiority, 
so  without  doubt  of  its  own  unassailable  dignity  that  it 
can  afford  to  be  benign.  We  must  make  up  a  word  and 
call  it  "  supremity  " — it  is  the  only  one  that  fits  it. 

Under  the  knee  of  each  mighty  figure  is  the  plump 
outline  of  a  little  wife,  small  it  looks  from  here,  but 
draw  nearer  still,  stand  right  under  that  colossus  on  the 
riojht  and  vou  will  fmd  that  she  is  twice  the  height  of 
a  man. 

As  they  tower  above  us,  seeming  to  grow  greater  every 
instant  as  the  light  filters  into  the  crevices,  we  get  some 
idea  of  the  monster  size  of  these  noble  statues,  and  discover 
that  each  foot  is  nearly  as  long  as  a  man  !  From  the 
broken  face  of  the  sloping  cliff  they  have  been  hewn,  not 
built  and  pieced  together  and  brought  here  from  else- 
where, but  born  full  size,  springing  to  life  from  out  the 
living  rock.  They  all  represent  tlie  king  witli  whom  we 
are  already  familiar,  Rameses  ii.,  who  caused  this  great 
temple  to  be  made  to  celebrate  his  victory  over  the  Klieta, 
a  tribe  of  Syrians,  living  far  away  by  the  river  Orontes 
in  the  north  of  the  Holy  Land. 

Two  on  each  side  of  the  temple  doorway  the  statues 
sit,  and  between  them,  in  low  relief,  is  the  small  figure  of 


112   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

the  god  Harmakhis.  Running  above,  across  them  all,  is 
an  inscription,  part  of  which  signifies — 

"  I  give  to  thee  all  life  and  strength." 

Look  up  at  it  beyond  those  towering  immovable  heads, 
and  from  it  again  to  the  rough  cliff  untouched  by  tool, 
and  from  that  to  the  sky,  now  of  the  purest,  softest  blue, 
hanging  like  a  canopy  above. 

The  high  black  doorway  of  the  temple  lies  like  a  gash 
on  the  face  of  the  cliff,  and  on  one  day  of  the  year  the  ray 
of  light  from  the  rising  sun  falls  through  it  clean  as  a  shot 
arrow.  The  black-robed  guardian  has  been  expecting  us, 
he  stands  waiting,  holding  his  staff  of  office,  and  admits 
us  to  the  interior.  It  is  very  dark,  and  even  with  the  light 
of  the  flickering  candle  he  holds  up  it  is  difficult  to  make 
out  those  great  columns,  each  seventeen  feet  high,  carved 
with  an  image  of  the  god  Osiris.  As  for  the  deep-cut 
pictures  everywhere  on  the  walls  we  can  only  get  the  merest 
glimpses  of  them.  We  pass  on  through  several  halls, 
noting  how  the  angles  and  lines  are  absolutely  plumb  and 
true,  and  come  to  the  innermost  sanctuary,  where  we 
find  the  king  again  as  one  of  four  seated  statues,  not  very 
large,  the  other  three  being  gods  !  That  was  the  idea 
Rameses  had  of  his  own  importance  ! 

Then  it  grows  on  us  with  increasing  wonder  that  all  this 
temple — the  walls,  the  columns,  the  statues — are  cut  out  of 
the  actual  rock,  and  that  all  the  stone  dislodged  in  the 
cutting  must  have  been  carried  out  through  that  doorway. 
How  was  it  achieved  ?  The  depth  of  the  temple  to  its 
farthest  wall  is  one  hundred  and  eiglity-five  feet,  or  almost 
three  times  a  cricket-pitch  !  Imagine  this  depth  driven 
in  to  the  rock  and  cleared  out  to  a  great  height  without 
any  machine  power  or  modern  tools  !  And  this  was 
accomplished  in  the  reign  of  one  king.  Rameses  reigned 
some  sixty  years,  and  his  great  victory  over  the  Kheta  was 


A  MILLION  SUNRISES 


113 


A  CHILD   HOLDS  OUT  A  STRANGE   LITTLE   BEAST. 


five  years  after  his  coronation,  so  perhaps  sixty  years  is 
the  longest  we  can  give  for  the  construction  of  the  temple, 
and  it  was  probably  much  less.  The  story  goes  that  in 
this  great  battle  the  king,  cut  off  from  his  men  and  alone 
in  the  midst  of  a  hostile  army,  performed  prodigies  of 
valour  ;  he  slew  and  hewed  right  and  left  until  he  sent 
the  greater  part  of  the  Syrian  army  flying  before  him  ; 
all  this  is  recorded  on  the  walls.  Of  course  in  the  case  of 
kings  these  doings  are  apt  to  be  magnified,  still,  there  is  no 
doubt  that  this  was  one  of  the  most  memorable  occasions 
of  his  life,  and  he  has  certainly  caused  it  to  be  remem- 
bered by  building  this  enduring  monument. 

We  hear  voices,  and  are  joined  by  half  a  dozen  of  our 
fellow-travellers  from  the  steamer.  As  we  all  walk  back 
together  a  child  sidles  up  and  holds  out  a  strange  little 

beast  with  a  head  like  a  skull  and  a  long  tail  like  a  rat.     It 
8 


114       ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

is  about  as  big  as  your  hand.  One  of  the  army  men  takes 
it  and  puts  it  in  the  sleeve  of  his  green  tweed  coat,  and  as 
he  walks  along  carrying  it  the  quaint  little  beast  turns  a 
greenish  colour.  It  is  a  chameleon  and  has  the  faculty  of 
changing  to  the  colour  of  its  background  whatever  that 
may  be ;  this  forms  a  protection  against  its  enemies,  who 
cannot  easily  see  it. 

"I'll  keep  it,"  says  the  soldier,  laughing  and  giving 
the  child  a  coin.  "  He  is  a  useful  little  beggar.  You 
should  see  that  tongue  of  his  flick  out  and  catch  an  unwary 
fly  half  a  foot  away." 

The  steamer  hoots  a  warning  note  and  we  all 
scramble  on  board  hastily.  Yes,  I  told  you  it  was  my 
shirt  ! 

An  hour  or  so  later  we  pass  the  boundary  into  the 
Soudan. 

"  Now  we  are  out  of  Egypt,"  says  another  of  our 
friends,  a  Government  official  with  years  of  experience 
behind  him.  "  The  Soudan  is  a  greatly  superior  place ; 
no  one  is  allowed  to  bother  you  here — we  don't  let  them. 
The  children  don't  even  know  the  meaning  of  the  word 
bakshish  ;  they  are  not  allowed  to  learn  it." 

This  sounds  comforting  and  gives  a  good  prospect  for 
the  day  we  shall  have  to  spend  at  our  stopping-place, 
Wady  Haifa,  before  going  back  on  the  steamer  to 
Assouan. 

There  is  no  railway  between  Assouan  and  Wady 
Haifa,  and  so  Government  steamers  run  all  the  year  round 
to  bridge  the  gap  between  the  two  ends  of  the  railway. 
In  the  season  Cook  runs  steamers  too,  and  they  give  much 
more  time  for  passengers  to  see  Abu  Simbel  and  other 
temples  on  the  way  ;  unfortunately,  as  we  are  too  early 
in  the  year,  we  could  not  take  advantage  of  them  and  had 
to  go  on  a  Government  boat. 

The  men  we  have  been  with  are  all  passing  on  by  rail 


A  MILLION  SUNRISES  115 

from  Wady  Haifa,  and  when  we  land  there  we  go  in  the 
afternoon  to  see  them  off  at  the  station.  They  are  a  keen, 
hard-bitten  crew,  and  make  us  feel  proud  of  our  country- 
men ;  they  are  reticent  mostly,  bearing  the  unmistakable 
stamp  of  responsibility.  Men  who  "  build  the  Empire  " 
are  little  apt  to  "  slop  over  "  or  demand  sympathy.  The 
boyish  vigour  remains  with  them  later  than  with  most 
men,  but  it  is  tempered  by  a  certain  hardness  outside. 
The  train  is  particularly  comfortable  and  well  managed, 
with  sleeping-cars  that  bear  comparison  with  the  best  in 
Europe,  and  a  good  dining-car ;  and  it  is  necessary,  for 
these  men  have  a  journey  of  a  day  and  a  night  before 
reaching  Khartoum,  the  capital  of  the  Soudan,  and  the 
way  lies  right  across  barren  desert,  where  the  sand  in- 
sidiously creeps  in  at  every  chink  in  spite  of  the  closely 
shut  windows.  To  some  of  them  indeed  Khartoum  is  only 
a  jumping-off  place.  There  is  one  army  man  who  received 
orders  to  leave  Cairo  at  ten  days'  notice  and  plunge  into 
Central  Africa,  there  to  hold  an  outpost  as  the  only  white 
man  for  hundreds  of  miles  around.  He  knows  little  of 
what  is  expected  of  him  beyond  the  fact  that  he  is  to 
purchase  a  year's  stores  in  Khartoum,  and  that  when  he 
has  gone  as  far  as  boat  and  waterway  can  take  him,  he 
will  have  to  march  at  least  a  hundred  miles  through 
country  where  his  equipment  must  be  carried  by  natives, 
as  it  is  the  haunt  of  the  dreaded  tsetse  fly  whose  bite 
is  fatal  to  animals.  He  has  a  map  made  up  mostly  of 
rivers  "  unexplored  "  and  country  "  unknown."  It  looks 
quite  full  of  information  and  names  when  you  merely 
glance  at  it,  but  when  you  begin  to  handle  it  you  find  a 
great  deal  of  the  print  tells  you  only  what  is  not  there. 
The  owner  of  it  hardly  knows  what  language  he  will 
have  to  speak,  but  he  is  as  pleased  about  it  all  as  a  girl 
going  to  her  first  ball.  In  his  own  words,  he  "  has  got  liis 
chance."     When  we  ask  him   what   he  is  going  to  take 


ii6   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

with  him,  he  answers  with  a  merry  twinkle,  "  I  started 
with  two  dozen  tooth-brushes  ;  I  should  think  in  their  line 
they  would  be  enough."  So  long  as  England  produces 
men  of  this  metal  she  need  not  fear  the  decadence  of  the 
race. 

When  we  have  parted  from  them  all  we  stroll  down  the 
bazaar  at  Wady  Haifa  and  are  immediately  followed  by 
a  horde  of  children  of  all  ages,  sizes,  and  descriptions, 
who,  whenever  we  stop  and  look  around  at  them,  say  with 
growing  confidence,  ''  Bakshish,  bakshish  !  "  even  the  tiny 
fat  babe  who  can  scarcely  toddle  murmurs  "  'Shish  !  " 

Still  pursued  by  the  horde  we  make  our  way  to  a 
tea-house,  where  numerous  natives  of  Haifa  sit  out  in  a 
little  compound  surrounded  by  a  wooden  fence  and  re- 
fresh themselves.  We  order  tea,  and  get  it  after  some 
difficulty ;  but  it  is  more  because  the  attendant  guesses 
what  we  would  be  likely  to  ask  for  than  because  he  under- 
stands us  that  we  eventually  are  provided  with  a  small  pot 
of  quite  decent  tea. 

While  we  drink  the  children  gather  from  afar  ;  every 
one  in  Haifa  under  the  age  of  fourteen  is  there  I  should 
say.  They  glue  themselves  to  the  fence  and  force  their 
little  faces  between  the  posts,  or  spike  their  chins  on  the 
top  and  then  watch  in  solemn  deadly  earnest  the  ways 
of  these  strange  beings  whom  fate  has  so  kindly  sent  to 
amuse  them.  The  rest-house  attendant  does  not  approve 
of  these  manners,  so  he  slips  out  of  a  side-door  with  a 
basin  of  water  in  his  hand  and  pitches  it  straight  over  the 
little  crew  as  if  they  were  a  flock  of  intrusive  chickens  ; 
they  fly,  shrieking  with  delight,  and  return  in  thicker 
swarms  than  ever  inside  of  two  minutes. 

An  affable  gentleman  in  a  gown  seats  himself  beside 
us. 

"  I  wish  you  good-day,"  he  says  in  English,  and  we 
return  his  greeting. 


A  MILLION  SUNRISES 


117 


"  I  am  dragoman  here,"  he  continues. 

We  point  to  one  small  girl  with  a  face  quite  different 
from  that  of  the  other  children,  and  her  hair  done  in 
innumerable  little  tight  pigtails,  and  ask  him  who  she  is. 
**  Nubian,"  he  says.  "  Eat  castor  oil,  plenty  oil,  like  it 
much."  We  tell  him  to  bring  the  child  to  us,  but  directly 
he  translates,  she  flies  screaming,  is  captured  by  the  other 
children,  and  a  noise  begins 
like  that  inside  the  parrot- 
house  at  the  Zoo.  I  explain 
that  we  don't  want  her  to  be 
frightened,  but  that  if  she  will 
come  and  speak  to  us  she  shall 
have  bakshish.  The  magic 
word  produces  instant  calm, 
the  child  comes  forward  at 
once  with  coquettish  assur- 
ance and  when,  through  the 
interpreter,  we  inquire  her 
name,  and  she  tells  us  it  is 
"  Nafeesa,"  we  give  her  half  a 
piastre  and  let  her  go. 

When  we  start  off  again 
for  the  steamer  the  whole 
crowd  follows  hard  on  our 
heels,  for  it  is  we  who  provide 
the  free  circus  to-day.  One 
mite  trotting  forward  with  his 
eyes  glued  on  us  goes  smack  into  a  tree  and  so  hurts 
his  little  face  that  he  covers  it  with  a  crooked  arm  and 
sets  off  homewards  wailing  softly. 

This  is  really  a  deserving  case,  even  in  England  it  is 
allowable  to  soothe  the  feelings  of  a  hurt  child,  so  wc 
mutter  "  Bakshish,"  and  all  the  eager  crew  rusli  after  the 
little  suffering  child,  yelling,  "  Bakshish,"  and  they  bring 


"^<''rraii. 


A    LITTl.K    NUr.IAN    GIRL. 


ii8   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

him  back  triumphantly  with  the  tears  already  dried  on  his 
hurt  face. 

So  much  for  the  Government  official  ! 
Now  we  are  off    really  !     Back  down  the    Nile  and 
good-bye  to  this  glorious  land.     Rapidly  we  fly  down- 
stream, past  Abu  Simbel,  past  the  sweeps  of  deep  rich 

yellow  sand  seen  nowhere 
south  of  Assouan  in  such 
glorious  colouring  ;  sand 
that  is  swept  smooth 
by  the  wind  into  great 
banks  and  drifts  with 
sharp  edges  like  snow- 
drifts ;  past  masses  of 
plum-coloured  rock  stick- 
ing up  out  of  it ;  past 
defiles  of  stony  moun- 
tains falling  sheer  to  the 
water  ;  hiding  here  and 
there  in  their  folds  tiny 
villages  indistinguishable 
from  the  rocks  without 
glasses.  There  is  hardly 
a  shaduf  to  be  seen  and 
m^^  very  little  cultivation,  it 

THE  PEOPLE  GOING  HOME  IN  THE  EVENINGS    IS    CltllCr    dcSCrt    Or    StOUy 
-WATER-CARRIERS.  J^i^g  ^^  ^^^J^  gi^^^       Graud 

beyond  thought  is  it  when  seen  in  the  flaming  light  of  the 
afterglow ! 

At  Assouan  we  have  time  for  a  glimpse  at  the  great 
dam,  extending  for  over  a  mile  in  length  and  built  of 
masonry  eighty-two  feet  thick  at  the  bottom.  This 
banks  up  the  water,  we  have  already  seen,  among  the  hills 
into  a  prodigious  lake  when  the  great  swirl  of  the  river 
comes   down  at  flood-time,  and   thus  much  of  it,  which 


A  MILLION  SUNRISES  119 

would  have  rushed  away  and  been  lost,  is  stored  and  let 
out  gradually  through  the  sluice-gates  as  required. 

Then  we  change  on  to  one  of  Cook's  steamers,  and  for 
days  we  fly  down-stream  to  Cairo.  We  see  the  green 
fields  of  maize,  and  we  watch  the  people  going  home  in  the 
evenings  with  the  tired  oxen  and  the  little  donkeys  carry- 
ing their  provender  on  their  backs.  And  one  day  we 
arrive  at  Cairo  and  take  the  train  for  Port  Said. 

Good-bye  to  Egypt  !  Mysterious,  beautiful  land  ! 
Never  in  all  our  wanderings  round  the  globe  shall  we  come 
upon  a  country  more  interesting. 


JERUSALEM. 


CHAPTER    X 


A    WALK   ABOUT   JERUSALEM 


We  have  passed  along  the  south  coast  of  Europe  and 
have  been  into  a  corner  of  Africa,  and  now  we  are  going 
to  set  foot  on  a  new  continent — Asia.  From  Port  Said, 
before  we  go  on  eastward,  I  want  you  to  see  just  a  httle 
of  the  Holy  Land — the  scene  of  the  Bible.  The  Holy  Land 
stands  by  itself,  apart,  and  though  it  is  in  Asia  it  doesn't 
seem  to  belong  to  it.  Someone  once  said  that  it  is  to  the 
world  what  a  church  is  to  a  town — the  centre  of  religion. 
Anyway,  it  is  curious  and  interesting  to  notice  that  it 
forms  the  middle  point  where  three  continents  meet,  so 
that  they  all  share  it.  I  expect  you  know  the  position 
quite  well.  At  the  east  end  the  Mediterranean  does  not 
run  into  a  point  as  it  does  at  Gibraltar,  but  comes  up  against 
a  straight  wall  of  land  which  cuts  it  off  squarely,  and  this 
straight  line  is  the  coast  of  Palestine,  better  known  as 
the  Holy  Land.  If  the  schoolboys  of  Palestine  were  set 
to  draw  a  map  of  their  own  country,  they  would  find  it 
much  easier  than  a  British  boy  would  if  told  to  make  a 
map  of  his  country.  For  all  that  the  Jewish  boy  would 
have  to  do  would  be  to  make  a  fairly  straight  line,  sloping 


A  WALK  ABOUT  JERUSALEM  121 

a  little  out  at  the  bottom  end.  There  would  be  hardly 
any  indentations  on  it  and  only  one  small  bay. 

Palestine,  of  course,  is  the  country  of  the  Jews,  though 
people  of  many  other  races  and  nations  live  there,  and 
thousands  of  the  Jews  are  scattered  in  all  parts  of  the 
world.  Some  people  dream  of  restoring  all  the  Jews  to 
their  own  land,  but  it  is  difficult  to  see  what  Sfood  it 
would  do  them.  Palestine  is  held  at  present  by  the 
Turks,  but  everyone  can  visit  it  when  they  please.  It  is 
not  a  very  large  country,  only  about  the  size  of  Wales,  and 
yet  there  isn't  a  country  in  the  world  to  equal  it  in  import- 
ance. Thousands  of  people  visit  it  every  year  in  spite 
of  the  fact  that  it  is  very  difficult  to  get  there.  There 
are  no  good  harbours,  and  the  landing  at  Jaffa,  which 
is  the  principal  port  for  Jerusalem,  has  to  be  done  in  small 
boats.  As  we  have  to  make  our  visit  in  the  winter  we 
may  find  the  sea  rough  and  dangerous,  and  may  even 
be  carried  on  north  of  Jaffa  and  have  to  come  back  on 
another  boat  as  some  friends  of  mine  did.  The  Holy 
Land  is  not  great  or  powerful  or  even  beautiful  nowadays, 
though  in  the  spring  the  wild  flowers  are  lovely.  Seen  in 
the  winter  it  is  just  a  rather  barren,  stony  land,  with  many 
hills,  and  it  is  inhabited  by  very  poor  people.  Yet  this 
little  country  has  been  more  fought  over  than  any  other. 
For  centuries  there  w^re  crusaders,  or  soldiers  of  the 
cross,  who  went  out  to  try  to  conquer  it,  to  hold  it  in 
Christian  keeping,  but  they  did  not  succeed. 

We  must  leave  our  heavy  luggage  at  Port  Said,  to  be 
picked  up  again  on  our  return,  and  only  take  wliat  we 
can  carry  in  handbags.  The  rather  small  steamer  which 
is  to  take  us  starts  in  the  evening,  and  it  is  best  to  go 
straiglit  to  bed  on  board,  as  we  sliall  liave  nmcli  to  go 
through  wlicn  we  arrive  to-morrow  morning.  After  a 
rather  disturbed  night  wc  arc  glad  to  get  up  and  cUtss 
and  come  on  deck.     Tlic  ship  is  at  anclior  off  Jaffa,  tossing 


122   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 


JAFFA. 

up  and  down  on  the  grey  water,  so  that  we  have  to  clutch 
at  handrails  and  hold  on  to  keep  our  footing  on  the 
slippery  deck,  which  is  cumbered  up  with  bags  and  bundles 
and  people  and  crates  in  a  most  confusing  way. 

All  around  the  ship  are  big  clumsy-looking  boats  filled 
with  swarthy  shouting  men  wearing  turbans  and  immense 
baggy  blue  trousers  with  enough  stuff  in  them  to  clothe 
a  whole  family  !  Except  that  they  are  not  armed  we 
might  imagine  we  were  held  up  by  pirates  !  In  front  of 
us,  a  little  distance  off,  are  cruel  jagged  rocks  over  which 
the  waves  pour  and  dash,  spouting  up  in  cascades  as  they 
come  slap  on  the  hard  surfaces. 

One  of  the  boats  is  close  to  the  ship  and  the  men  in 
her  are  hanging  on  by  a  rope  which  they  gather  up  or 
let  out  as  they  rise  and  fall  at  the  bottom  of  the  long 
slippery  gangway,  much  worse  than  that  we  climbed  at 
Toulon.  The  men  in  our  ship  are  pitching  in  bags  and 
bundles  very  cleverly  as  the  boat  comes  up,  and  among 
the  things  we  see  our  own  brown  bags.  Very  soon  we 
shall  be  pitched  in  too  !     How  will  you  like  that  ? 

Near  us  is  a  very  fat  Turkish  lady,  who  is  so  rolled  up 
in  clothes,  head  and  all,  that  it  is  quite  possible  she  might 
be  mistaken  for  a  feather-bed.     Two  sailors  get  hold  of 


A  WALK  ABOUT  JERUSALEM  123 

her  and  carry  her  down  the  gangway,  depositing  her 
neatly  in  the  boat  as  it  swings  near. 

Before  you  have  quite  reaUsed  what  has  happened  a 
muscular  man  has  caught  you  up  like  a  sack  of  potatoes. 
You  are  run  down  the  gangway  with  his  hand  on  your 
arm  like  a  vice,  the  boat  comes  up,  and  just  at  exactly 
the  right  second,  when  it  balances  on  the  crest  of  the 
wave,  3''our  captor  lets  you  go  and  you  land  on  the  seat 
gently  and  sink  away  again  with  the  boat.  I  follow,  but 
am  not  so  lucky,  for  the  next  wave  catches  the  boat 
awry  and  sluices  me  from  neck  to  heel  !  However,  I  have 
a  stout  coat  on  and  do  not  mind.  Then,  in  the  heavily 
laden  boat,  with  the  Turkisli  lady  and  the  bags  and  the 
bundles,  we  start  for  tlie  distant  shore. 

This  is  the  principal  landing-place  for  Palestine  ! 
Babies  and  bishops,  pilgrims  and  pigs,  pianos  and  potatoes 
have  all  to  be  pitched  into  boats  ! 

Our  excitement  is  not  over  yet,  for  as  we  near  the 
rocks  it  looks  as  if  we  must  be  smashed  by  the  heavy 
waves.  The  roar  of  the  surf  is  so  great  that  we  cannot 
hear  each  other  speak,  and  the  rain  and  foam  bespatter 
our  faces.  We  blink  and  hang  on  to  each  other,  see-sawing 
up  and  down,  and  wondering  every  second  if  we  shall  be 
feeling  colder  yet  when  we  are  actually  in  the  water,  and 
then  the  boat  swings  up  on  a  wave  and  runs  through  into 
calmer  water  beyond. 

We  thread  our  way  in  and  out  of  narrow  cliannels, 
still  between  rocks,  and  see  aliead  of  us  a  desolate  land 
with  a  queer  flat-roofed  town. 

When  at  last  we  arc  on  firm  ground  our  guide  leads 
us  quickly  through  some  narrow  dirty  streets,  and  before 
we  have  time  to  notice  anything  we  are  in  a  noisy,  fussy 
httle  train,  bound  for  Jerusalem. 

We  are  actually  in  the  land  of  Israel,  tlie  land  wlicrc 
all  the  Bible  stories  happened,  not  only  those  of  the  New 


124   HOUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

Testament  but  also  of  the  Old  !  Here  Noah  lived  when 
the  Flood  came,  here  Abraham  and  Isaac  and  Jacob  pitched 
their  tents  and  pastured  their  flocks.  From  here  the 
sons  of  Jacob,  who  was  also  called  Israel,  went  down  to 
the  land  of  Egypt  to  buy  corn  when  there  was  a  terrible 
famine  lasting  many  years.  We  know  that  they  settled 
there,  having  found  their  brother  Joseph  in  great  power  ; 
and  long,  long  after  they  had  all  been  dead  their 
descendants  multiplied  into  a  great  people  and  were 
treated  as  slaves  by  the  Egyptians,  so  God  brought  them 
back  again  to  the  land  of  their  ancestors. 

When  they  arrived  here,  after  wandering  many  years 
in  the  wilderness,  they  found  the  country  occupied  by 
stranger  races  whom  they  fought  and  conquered  ;  among 
them  were  the  Hivites  and  Jebusites  and  Amorites  and 
Hittites.  Then  the  Israelites  became  a  great  nation  and 
had  kings  of  their  own.  The  second  king,  David,  was  of 
the  tribe  of  Judah,  one  of  the  best  of  old  Israel's  sons,  and 
he  drove  out  the  people  who  occupied  Jerusalem  and  made 
it  his  capital.  His  son,  Solomon,  built  here  the  most 
wonderful  temple  ever  known.  But  later  on  trouble 
came  upon  the  Israelites,  and  mightier  nations  from 
the  east  swept  down  upon  them,  and  carried  them  away 
as  slaves.  After  long  years  of  captivity  some  came  back 
to  Jerusalem,  and  they  were  the  descendants  of  Judah  and 
Benjamin,  but  the  other  tribes  returned  no  more,  and  no 
one  knows  what  became  of  them ;  they  are  spoken  of  to 
this  day  as  the  Lost  Ten  Tribes,  but  the  descendants  of 
Judah  were  called  Jews.  These  Jews,  who  returned  and 
lived  again  in  Jerusalem  and  other  parts  of  the  country, 
were  again  conquered  by  the  Romans,  and  when  the 
Saviour  Jesus  Christ  was  born  the  Romans  held  the 
supreme  power  in  the  Holy  Land. 

As  the  train  goes  on  we  see  a  bare  and  bleak  country, 
which  looks  as  if  giants  had  had  a  desperate  fight  and 


A  WALK  ABOUT  JERUSALEM  125 

hurled  stones  at  each  other,  after  which  the  stones 
had  lain  there  ever  since.  This  was  the  part  of  the 
land  inhabited  by  the  Philistines,  against  whom  the 
Israelites  had  so  many  and  such  bitter  fights.  It  is  quite 
likely  that  Goliath  of  Gath,  whom  David  fought,  once 
strode  among  the  fields  ;  and  we  know  that  the  great 
Israelitish  hero,  Samson,  the  strong  man,  lived  about 
here  and  wandered  in  among  the  valleys.  Most  people 
are  disappointed  with  the  country  unless  they  come  in  the 
spring,  but  when  you  get  used  to  it  you  find  it  has  a 
wonderful  charm. 

It  takes  nearly  four  hours  in  the  train  to  reach 
Jerusalem  station.  It  seems  quite  odd  to  think  of 
Jerusalem  having  a  station.  We  have  heard  the  Bible 
stories  so  long  that  we  forget  that  they  are  real,  and  that 
they  actually  happened  just  as  truly  as  the  stories  in  our 
own  history.  Jerusalem  is  a  real  town,  just  as  real  as 
York,  though  it  is  not  like  it,  except  for  the  fact  that  it  has 
city  walls.  The  station  is  a  good  way  from  the  town,  and 
a  mob  of  eager  men  are  waiting  there  to  catch  any  tourists 
and  drive  them  up.  They  are  quite  ready  to  fight  each 
other  or  to  clutch  us  to  gain  this  privilege,  and  if  it  were 
not  for  our  guide  we  might  be  torn  in  pieces. 

Our  dragoman  is  a  clever  man  ;  he  chooses  his  driver 
at  once  and  helps  us  into  the  ramshackle  old  conveyance 
and  off  we  go  over  the  hillside.  Soon  we  see  ahead  of  us 
the  encircling  wall  of  the  city  on  a  height  above,  and  we 
wind  up  to  it  by  gradually  inclined  roads  till  we  come  to 
the  great  gate.  We  cannot  have  the  satisfaction  of  saying 
to  ourselves,  "  Jesus  actually  looked  at  these  walls  with  His 
human  eyes,"  because  the  walls  were  built  long  after  His 
death.  The  town  was  utterly  destroyed  about  sixty  years 
after  the  cruciiixion,  and  nothing  was  left  but  })iles  of 
stones,  and  when  the  rebuilding  began  no  one  remem- 
bered where  the  streets  had  run  or  where  the  holy  places 


126       ROUND  THE  AVONDERFUL  WORLD 

had  been.  All  we  can  say  with  certainty  is  that  the 
present  city  must  be  very  much  the  same  kind  of  city 
as  that  Jesus  knew. 

The  hotel  is  just  inside  the  gateway,  and  here  we  can 
rest  and  get  something  to  eat,  and  then  we  can  go  out ; 
but  we  must  have  the  guide  with  us,  for  any  well-dressed 
European  walking  alone  in  the  city  would  be  pestered  to 
death  by  beggars  and  touts  trying  to  get  money  out  of 
him. 

It  is  not  long  before  we  sally  forth  and  are  led  into  a 
curious  long  dark  alley  or  passage  where  the  houses  almost 
meet  overhead  ;  it  slopes  down  steeply  and  there  are 
shallow  steps  at  intervals.  The  sun  has  come  out,  luckily, 
and  looking  up  we  can  see  a  very  narrow  strip  of  blue  sky, 
but  down  below  it  is  very  dark.  You  slip  and  nearly 
come  full  length  on  the  pavement  because  of  the  old 
cabbage  leaves,  bits  of  orange  peel,  and  other  messy 
remnants  of  food  left  about,  and  then  I,  in  my  turn,  go 
almost  headlong  over  a  bundle  of  rags  lying  on  a  door- 
step. Immediately  a  shrivelled  hand  shoots  out  and  a 
long  melancholy  cry  which  curdles  our  blood  comes  from 
the  heap.  It  is  a  woman,  so  wrapped  up  in  rags  that 
she  looks  like  nothing  human.  A  small  coin  dropped  in 
her  hand  brings  down  what  we  must  suppose  are  blessings 
on  us  in  her  own  tongue. 

The  wee  strip  of  blue  sky  is  cut  across  here  and  there 
by  iron  bars,  high  over  our  heads ;  these  are  "  camel- 
bars  "  put  to  prevent  camels  passing  through  this  way, 
though  the  donkeys  and  people  can  get  along  underneath. 
Then  we  turn  a  corner  and  pass  into  a  slightly  wider 
thoroughfare,  though  it  is  still  merely  a  passage  in  com- 
parison with  any  streets  in  our  western  towns.  Swaying 
high  above  us  is  the  head  of  a  camel  whose  squashy  feet 
come  down  almost  upon  us  as  we  hastily  tumble  back 
into  our  entry,  while  the  great  bales  on  his  back  brush  the 


A  WALK  ABOUT  JERUSALE^Nl 


127 


A   BEGGAR,  JERUSALEM. 


walls  as  he  goes  on  his  lordly  way.  Women  selling 
vegetables  crowd  the  more  open  spaces  at  the  crossing 
of  the  narrow  streets.  Men  in  red  fezes  and  flowing 
garments  like  dressing-gowns  stride  along  ;  brown-faced 
boys  run  in  and  out,  and  the  din,  the  confusion,  and  the 
smell  are  very  trying.  We  begin  to  wonder  when  we  shall 
get  out  into  the  real  streets  and  we  ask  the  dragoman.  He 
tells  us  at  once  that  we  are  in  a  street,  one  of  the  principal 
ones,  that,  in  fact,  they  are  all  like  this,  and  no  wheeled 
vehicle  can  pass  in  any  part  of  Jerusalem  !  This  is  so 
bewildering  that  we  feel  as  if  we  were  in  a  labyrinth,  and 
huddle  close  up  to  the  guide  anxious  not  to  lose  sight  of 
him  for  a  moment. 

Overhead  there  are  arches  sometimes  spanning  the 
narrow  space,  and  at  others  we  cross  over  curious  little 
open  bridges  joining  one  house  to  another,  then  we  plunge 
into  a  cellar  and  walk  riglit  through  it  and  out  on  the  other 
side.  Everyone  seems  to  be  doing  the  same  ;  it  is  a 
regular  passage-way,  and  yet  people  live  in  that  cellar, 
for  we  see  them  crouching  over  a  red  fire  in  the  cavernous 


128   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 


dark,  and  we  wonder  how  they  Hke  strangers  to  make  a 
highway  of  their  home. 

All  the  way  we  see  people  of  so  many  kinds  we  have 
never  seen  before  that  it  is  difficult  not  to  stand  still  and 
gape.  There  are  men  in  cloaks  and  wrappings,  weather- 
beaten  and  worn,  and  men  in  European  clothes  and  brown 
or  yellow  boots,  there  are  thick-lipped  negroes  with  rolling 

yellow  eyeballs,  and  warlike 
Turkish  soldiers,  who  clank 
down  the  street  thrusting 
everyone  aside.  The  Jews 
themselves  are  the  least 
attractive  of  all,  with  very 
greasy  head-gear,  from  each 
side  of  which  hangs  down  a 
corkscrew  curl,  as  often  red 
as  black ;  they  wear  usually  a 
kind  of  soiled  dressing-gown 
garment  and  seem  afraid  of 
being  struck.  Of  the  many 
types  of  men  the  Arabs 
are  the  manliest,  and  come 
nearest  to  our  idea  of  the  old 
patriarchs,  Abraham,  Isaac, 
and  Jacob.  They  wear  a  kind 
of  cloth  on  their  heads  falling 
down  behind,  you  could  easily 
make  something  like  it  with 
a  towel  any  day.  This  is  bound  round  the  forehead  by 
a  fillet  sometimes  made  of  camel's  hair,  which  holds  it  in 
its  place  tightly,  like  a  cap.  They  have  across  their 
shoulders  a  striped  narrow  blanket  of  brilliant  orange  or 
scarlet,  and]  they  walk  with  a  free  stride  and  their  heads 
held  up  ;  they  are  men  of  the  desert,  accustomed  to 
freedom  and  to  taking  care  of  themselves  against  all  comers. 


A   JEW, 


JEWS'   WAILING   PLACE,  JERUSALEM. 


A  WALK  ABOUT  JERUSALEM 


129 


At  one  corner  a  man  who  has  been  angrily  expostu- 
lating with  another  bangs  him  with  a  bag  he  carries,  the 
bag  bursts  and  the  air  is  filled  with  a  cloud  of  flour  which 
envelops  the  two  until  they  cannot  be  seen.  Furious 
voices  come  out  of  the  cloud,  and  as  everyone  hastens  to 
the  sight  we  take  the  chance  to  go  the  other  way. 

In  every  Eastern  city  there  is  a  "bazaar"  correspond- 
ing with  what  in  England  we  should  call  the  market- 
place. The  guide  leads 
us  to  the  "  bazaar,"  and 
at  the  first  glance  we  can 
hardly  believe  he  is  right, 
for  we  plunge  into  a  long 
narrow  passage  arched 
overhead  so  that  it  is 
simply  neither  more  nor 
less  than  a  tunnel.  There 
are  three  of  these,  and 
the  light  only  comes  in 
from  the  ends  or  from 
some  holes  far  overhead. 
In  this  dimness  we  see 
caverns  or  recesses  on 
each  side,  quite  open, 
with  no  glass,  and  these 
are  the  shops.  There  is 
a  curious  glare  from  some 

of  them  where  the  owners  have  a  fire  for  cooking  food 
or  for  heating  their  forges.  Butchers  and  shoemakers 
abound,  and  the  smell  of  raw  leather  is  revolting.  In  the 
next  passage  many  things  are  sold,  and  there  are  quite  a 
number  of  chemists'  shops.  In  most  of  these  the  owner 
sits  serenely  smoking  as  if  he  had  nothing  on  earth  to  do. 
In  one  we  see  a  chair  tilted  up  against  the  merchandise, 
this  is  to  signify  that  the  owner  is  away  and  that  no  one 
9 


AN   ARAB   IN  JERUSALEM. 


I30   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

must  touch  anything  till  he  returns.  In  the  third  tunnel, 
which  is  the  noisiest  and  darkest  of  all,  there  are  many 
silversmiths  showing  some  wonderful  work.  It  is  no  use 
our  buying  any  of  it,  for  we  cannot  carry  it  round  the 
world  with  us.  Even  if  we  could,  we  should  be  rash  to  get 
it  here,  for  every  man  asks  about  four  times  as  much  as  he 
expects  to  get.  That  is  one  of  the  things  which  is  so 
different  in  the  East  and  West.  Fancy  going  into  one  of 
the  big  west-end  shops  in  London  where  an  article  was 
marked  at  a  fixed  price  and  trying  to  beat  the  shop 
assistant  down.  He  would  only  smile,  hardly  answer, 
and  turn  away.  Such  a  thing  is  absurd,  but  in  the  East 
any  article  is  worth  just  as  much  as  it  will  fetch,  and  the 
merchant  says  at  first  an  enormous  price  in  the  hope  that 
his  customer  is  ignorant  and  will  give  it  him,  but  if  the 
customer  bargains  he  will  slowly  come  down.  It  takes 
much  time  to  shop  in  this  way,  and  is  not  altogether 
satisfactory,  for  you  really  have  to  know  what  the  things 
are  worth  first. 

After  this  we  must  go  back  to  the  hotel,  for  we  have 
wandered  about  all  the  afternoon  and  are  weary  and 
bewildered,  and  we  have  many  sights  to  see  to-morrow. 

Thoroughly  rested  after  a  good  night  we  start  out  next 
morning  to  see  something  of  the  sacred  places.  Of  course 
we  know  very  well  that  when  the  long  lane  is  pointed  out 
down  which  Jesus  bore  His  cross,  the  very  spots  where  He 
stumbled  and  where  Simon  was  made  to  carry  it  for  Him, 
that  these  things  cannot  be  true.  Speaking  of  Jerusalem 
Jesus  said  once,  "  There  shall  not  be  left  one  stone  upon 
another  that  shall  not  be  thrown  down,"  and  it  came 
literally  true,  so  the  present  streets  are  not  those  He  trod. 
Yet  even  so  the  scene  is  wonderfully  interesting,  for  the 
old  Jerusalem  must  have  been  like  the  present  town,  and 
the  sights  Christ  saw  must  have  resembled  those  we  see, 
as  for  the  first  time  we  walk  down  these  narrow  steep 


A  WALK  AEOUT  JERUSALEM  131 

alleys.  We  are  going  to  the  Church  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre 
built  over  the  place  where  the  sepulchre  of  Christ  is 
supposed  to  have  been.  As  we  go  toward  it  we  come  across 
more  beggars  than  we  yet  have  encountered.  A  perfect 
army  of  halt  and  maimed  and  lame  and  blind  crouch  by 
the  sides  of  the  lane  and  live  on  the  charity  of  the  passers- 
by.  This  sort  of  thing  would  never  be  allowed  in  any 
Western  country,  and,  as  we  are  not  accustomed  to  it,  it 
strikes  us  as  very  distressing.  Then  we  come  out  into 
an  open  space  where  there  is  a  great  building  so  irregular 
and  piled  up  that  it  is  difficult  to  recognise  it  as  a  church. 
Here  are  seated  on  the  pavement  numerous  gaily  clothed 
men  with  crucifixes  and  mementoes  of  the  Holy  Land  for 
sale.     They  spread  their  wares  out  on  the  paving-stones. 

Passing  them  all  we  go  inside  the  church  and  find  a 
darkened  atmosphere  where  red  lamps  burn  always. 

We  are  led  up  steps  and  down  steps  and  this  way  and 
that,  and  have  many  things  pointed  out  to  us.  We  are 
shown,  for  instance,  the  slab  on  which  Christ's  body  lay 
and  the  sepulchre  hewn  in  the  rock  where  He  was  buried, 
and  though  we  know  that  neither  of  these  things  can  be 
true,  still  we  feel  we  are  in  a  more  sacred  place  than  any 
we  have  ever  yet  visited.  For  centuries  men  of  all  races 
and  all  nations  have  come  here  to  worship  and  pray,  as 
the  shepherds  and  Wise  Men  came  to  worship  and  pray 
at  the  manger  in  Bethlehem.  The  slab  of  the  marble  is 
worn  away  by  the  soft  lips  of  adoring  pilgrims,  who  fall 
prostrate  before  it  and  kiss  it  while  tears  roll  down  their 
cheeks.  Of  all  that  come  from  far  the  Russian  pilgrims 
are  the  most  devout.  These  poor  people,  worse  off  than 
any  English  labourers,  save  tlieir  pence  from  year  to  year, 
and  then  tramp  hundreds  of  miles  from  their  country 
homes  to  the  seaport  of  Odessa  in  Russia  in  order  to  come 
across  to  see  the  Holy  Land.  They  live  on  the  charity 
of  other  poor  villagers  as  tliey  go,  or  they  carry  sacks  of 


132   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

bread-crusts,  getting  more  and  more  mouldy  every  week. 
Thousands  arrive  at  the  Holy  Land  every  year  just  before 
Easter,  old  and  frail  men  and  women  who  have  undergone 
incredible  hardships.  They  say,  "  What  does  it  matter 
what  happens  to  our  bodies  ?  "  and  many  of  them  die 
uncomplainingly.  They  are  so  good  and  simple  that  they 
believe  everything  that  is  told  them,  and  almost  faint  with 
joy  to  think  they  have  at  last  arrived  at  the  holy  places. 
The  air  seems  to  glow  with  their  wonderful  faith  and  love 
and  kindliness  to  one  another.  If,  indeed,  this  is  not  the 
real  sepulchre,  at  least  it  is  a  very  holy  place. 

After  this  the  guide  leads  us  through  so  many  churches 
of  all  sorts  that  we  are  quite  bewildered,  until  at  last  we 
come  out  on  a  high  open  place  where  all  is  quiet,  and  in  the 
midst  there  stands  a  huge  church  quite  different  from 
anything  we  have  yet  seen — it  has  a  round  dome  rising 
from  walls  of  exquisite  blue  and  green  slabs  of  polished 
stone.  This  is  the  church  of  the  Mohammedans,  called 
a  mosque,  and  why  it  is  so  especially  interesting  to  us  is 
because  it  stands  on  the  very  spot  where  stood  the  Ark  of 
the  Jews,  and  where,  from  the  days  of  King  Solomon,  they 
worshipped  God  in  the  Temple.  When  Solomon  built 
the  Temple  it  was  the  most  wonderful  and  beautiful 
church  in  the  world.  It  was  put  together  of  massive 
stones,  made  ready  and  hewn  and  carved  before  they 
came  to  this  place,  so  that  there  was  no  sound  of  axe  or 
hammer  in  the  sacred  precincts.  And  the  fittings  were 
made  of  carved  cedar  wood,  brought  down  by  sea  from 
Lebanon,  while  the  furnishings  were  of  pure  gold.  Never 
was  any  building  before  so  carefully  finished  or  so  artisti- 
cally designed.  Solomon's  Temple  was  utterly  destroyed, 
but  there  were  temples  built  and  rebuilt  on  the  same 
site,  and  that  site  is  considered  to  be  peculiarly  sacred, 
because  it  is  a  peak  of  a  mountain  called  Mount  Moriah. 
You  remember  that  it  was  to  Mount   Moriah   Abraham 


A  WALK  ABOUT  JERUSALEM 


^33 


THE   MOSQUE   OF   OMAR   ON   MOUNT   MORIAH,  JERUSALEM. 

was  told  to  take  his  son  Isaac  and  sacrifice  him  ?  The 
Jews  hold  that  the  very  peak  on  which  the  mosque  now 
stands  is  that  place.  It  is,  indeed,  quite  certain  that 
there  is  an  outcrop  of  rock  belonging  to  part  of  the  summit 
of  Mount  Moriali  in  the  mosque  which  stands  just  wliere 
the  Temple  stood.  You  shall  see  it.  Meantime  we  must 
put  on  huge  loose  slippers,  made  of  sacking  and  straw, 
over  our  boots  before  we  go  in,  for  the  Mohammedans 
always  take  off  their  own  shoes  on  entering  holy  places, 
and  as  our  modern  boots  are  not  constructed  to  be  easily 
slipped  off  like  Eastern  shoes,  we  must  cover  them  up. 
The  man  at  the  entrance  ties  on  these  enormous  things 
and  we  shuffle  along  in  them  as  best  we  can.  Inside,  the 
mosque  is  light  and  high  and  very  ricli  in  poHshcd  stone 
and  gilding  ;  it  is  very  different  from  the  Cliurcli  of  the 
Holy  Sepulchre.     We  are  led  tlirougii  it,  wondering  and 


134   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

gazing,  until  we  come  suddenly  to  a  bare  rock  cropping 
up  out  of  the  pavement  to  just  about  your  height,  and  this, 
for  all  the  ages  past,  has  been  a  sacred  rock.  Indeed,^no 
one  can  say  that  it  was  not  on  this  mountain-top,  then  in 
the  midst  of  wild  natural  country,  that  Abraham  laid  his 
only  son  bound.  From  this  cause  the  mosque  is  often 
known  as  the  "  Dome  of  the  Rock." 

One  more  sight  we  must  see  before  going  out  on  to  the 
quiet  hillside  called  the  Mount  of  Olives.  This  is  that 
most  curious  place  called  the  Jews'  Wailing-Place. 

To  reach  this  we  pass  down  long  staircase-like  streets 
in  a  poor  quarter.  We  see  many  tall  and  fierce-looking 
men,  with  hooked  noses  and  keen  eyes,  who  wear  a  white 
cloak  thrown  round  their  heads  and  hanging  down  on  their 
shoulders ;  but  there  are  also  many  other  Jews  from  all 
parts, — the  Polish  Jews  are  most  conspicuous  in  their 
brilliant  crimson  or  purple  plush  gowns,  with  round  velvet 
hats  of  the  same  colour  edged  with  fur;  and  then  we 
come  out  into  an  open  space  with  a  huge  wall  as  high  as 
a  very  high  house  made  of  enormous  blocks  of  stone. 
This  is  said  to  be  part  of  the  actual  wall  surrounding  the 
Temple  built  by  Solomon.  It  is  Friday  afternoon  and 
there  is  a  great  concourse  of  men  and  women  in  flowing 
garments,  bending  and  bowing  and  kneeling  before  the 
wall  and  wailing  out  their  prayers.  Some  crouch  low, 
others  cling  to  the  giant  blocks  and  kiss  the  rough  surface, 
others  beat  their  breasts  as  if  in  agony.  Standing  not 
far  from  us  is  a  tall  man  who  calls  out  some  words  in  a 
long  wailing  cry,  immediately  the  crowd  respond  as  in  a 
Litany.  What  they  are  crying  out  is  something  like 
this — 

"  For  the  sake  of  the  Temple  that  is  destroyed 
We  sit  solitary  and  weep ; 
For  the  walls  that  are  thrown  down 
We  sit  solitary  and  weep." 

'rT  'TP  tP  tP  ^  ^ 


A  WALK  ABOUT  JERUSALEM  135 

We  are  alone  at  last.  All  the  morning  it  has  been 
raining  heavily,  and  in  our  wanderings  about  the  city 
we  got  drenched  by  water-spouts  from  roofs  that  stuck 
out  across  the  street,  and  deluged  by  drippings  from 
window-sills.  In  many  of  the  narrow  streets  we  simply 
had  to  wade,  for  the  water  rushed  down  them  like 
mountain-torrents,  and  then  we  went  back  to  the  hotel 
to  get  warm  and  dry  before  sallying  out  again.  Now  we 
are  sitting  on  a  great  grey  stone  on  the  Mount  of  Olives, 
and  the  sun  is  coming  out  and  drying  up  all  the  dampness. 
We  look  down  upon  Jerusalem  as  Christ  looked  down  on 
it  that  day  when  He  entered  in  a  triumphal  procession 
and  paused  to  weep  over  it.  We  can  see  the  domes  and 
the  fiat  roofs  with  the  sun  glinting  on  them  and  making 
them  shine  out  white,  and  the  great  wall  with  its  turreted 
top  running  round  all.  It  is  not  the  same  city  He  saw, 
but  it  must  be  very  like  it.  These  buildings,  churches,  and 
mosques  were  not  there,  of  course,  and  there  were  a  good 
many  more  trees  than  there  are  now.  An  olive  tree 
never  looks  young ;  from  the  earliest  time  it  always  has 
a  twisted  cross  appearance  like  an  old  man  who  knows 
what  rheumatism  is.  The  blue-green  leaves  are  small 
and  narrow,  and  they  turn  edgewise  to  the  sun  as  if  they 
were  reluctant  to  give  anyone  beneath  them  any  more 
shade  than  they  could  help.  Tiiere  is  one  line  of  a  hymn 
that  always  comes  into  my  mind  when  I  look  at  an  olive 
tree,  it  runs — 

"  Beneath  the  olive's  moon-pierced  shade." 

That  is  very  good,  because  the  brilliant  clear  wiiite  hglit 
of  an  Eastern  moon  would  certainly  pierce  through  any 
"  shade  "  an  olive  tree  could  make. 

Many,  many  times  must  Jesus  have  crossed  tliis  iiill, 
and  tlie  most  memorable  time  was  when  the  people  came 
running  beside  Him,  singing  Hosannas  and  culling  down 


I -.6   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 


o 


palm  branches,  and  even  spreading  their  clothes  for  Him 
to  pass  over,  on  that  first  Palm  Sunday  so  long  ago.  The 
association,  which  is  the  most  sacred  and  heart-stirring,  is 
of  that  night  before  the  crucifixion,  when  He  came  out 
here  with  His  disciples  and,  kneeling,  prayed  earnestly 
while  they  slept.  That  was  in  what  is  called  the  Garden 
of  Gethsemane.  There  is  more  than  one  place  on  the 
Mount  which  claims  to  be  that  garden.  The  monks  have 
fenced  one  in  and  planted  it  with  gay  flowers,  and  there 
is  a  good  deal  of  reason  to  believe  this  may  be  actually 
right.  In  the  country,  places  cannot  be  utterly  swept  away 
as  they  are  in  towns  under  an  avalanche  of  brick  and 
stone.  We  can  look  down  from  the  hill  into  this 
garden,  even  though  it  is  surrounded  by  high  walls.  In 
the  middle  is  a  very  ancient  olive  tree,  said  to  have  been 
growing  in  Christ's  time.  Rosaries  are  made  from  the 
stones  of  the  olives  which  it  bears.  There  are  little 
round  flower-beds  carefully  tended  in  the  garden,  and 
between  them  you  can  see  a  monk  walking  in  his  long 
coarse  gown. 

The  hill  is  not  very  high,  and  the  country  is  barren  and 
stony  and  would  be  rather  dull  were  it  not  for  the  thought 
of  all  the  wonderful  scenes  that  have  happened  here. 
Let  us  climb  on  to  the  very  top.  From  there,  away  to 
the  east,  we  see  a  long  line  of  high  blue  hills,  the  mountains 
of  Moab,  and  nearer,  in  a  deep  hole  in  the  ground,  we 
catch  just  a  glimpse  of  the  water  of  the  Dead  Sea.  It  is 
a  strange  name  and  a  strange  place  !  It  lies  deep,  deep 
down,  far  below  the  level  of  the  ocean,  and  though  many 
rivers  and  streams  run  into  it  none  run  out.  You  would 
think  it  must  always  be  getting  larger,  but  no.  The  water 
evaporates  very  quickly.  You  know  if  there  is  a  drop 
of  water  or  a  wet  mark  on  your  hand  and  you  wave  it 
about  in  the  air,  presently  the  water  disappears,  that  is 
because   of  evaporation.     The   dampness   has   not  really 


A  WALK  ABOUT  JERUSALEM  137 

gone  but  turned  into  another  form  and  made  the  sur- 
rounding air  a  little  more  damp.  If  that  drop  had  been 
salt,  the  salt  would  not  have  entered  into  the  air,  but 
stayed  on  your  hand,  so  when  the  air  drinks  up  the  water 
from  the  surface  of  the  Dead  Sea,  the  salt  remains  behind 
and  the  sea  gets  more  and  more  salty  ;  it  is  many  times  more 
salt  than  the  water  of  an  ordinary  sea. 

The  sandy  shores  all  round  are  full  of  this  salt  and 
nothing  can  grow  there,  so  all  is  desolate  and  dreary, 
and  thus  it  is  that  the  name  Dead  Sea  is  so  appropriate. 
If  you  tried  to  swim  in  that  sea  you  would  fmd  it  impossible 
to  sink,  for  just  as  sea-water  holds  you  up  more  than 
fresh,  so  the  Dead  Sea  water  holds  you  up  more  than  that 
of  the  ordinary  sea.  All  the  same,  though  you  could  not 
sink  to  the  bottom  you  might  drown,  because  the  head 
and  chest  being  heavier  than  the  legs  go  down  naturally, 
and  a  man  might  not  be  able  to  recover  himself  but  be 
drowned  legs  upward,  as  many  have  been  through  not 
knowing  how  to  manage  a  lifebelt. 

The  sacred  river  Jordan  runs  into  the  Dead  Sea.  We 
have  met  one  of  the  sacred  rivers  of  history  already — 
the  Nile, — and  the  Jordan,  though  very  small,  is  another. 
It  is  almost  absurdly  small  in  contrast  with  the  Nile, 
being  only  one  hundred  miles  long  !  From  all  over  the 
world  people  send  to  get  water  from  the  Jordan  with  which 
to  baptize  their  babies  ;  they  have  a  feeling  tliat  it  is 
different  from  ordinary  water  because  Christ  Himself 
was  baptized  in  it.  As  you  have  heard,  the  Russian 
pilgrims  go  down  in  crowds  to  bathe  in  the  Jordan  in 
their  shrouds,  for  they  too  look  on  the  river  as  sacred. 

About  six  miles  to  the  south  of  where  we  are  sitting 
is  Bethlehem,  where  Jesus  was  born,  and  wliere  the 
shepherds  and  Wise  Men  found  Him.  Mucli  nearer  is 
Bethany,  where  He  often  stayed. 

To-day  something  of  the  wonder  of  the   Holy   Land 


138 


ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 


ABOUT  SIX   MILES  TO  THE   SOUTH   IS   BETHLEHEM. 


has  come  upon  us.  We  have  got  out  of  the  narrow  crowded 
lanes  and  away  from  the  josthng  people  into  the  country  ; 
so  the  Bible  story  has  become  more  real  than  it  ever  was 
before.  Here  is  the  hillside  over  which  He  passed. 
There  are  the  olive  trees,  exactly  like  those  He  saw. 

We  have  visited  Him  in  His  daily  life.  It  is  now 
only  left  for  us  to  go  to  Nazareth,  where  He  spent  all  His 
life  up  to  the  time  when  He  announced  Himself  as  the 
Christ,  the  Messiah,  and  began  His  Mission.  But  Nazareth 
is  a  long  way  off.  It  will  take  us  about  three  days  to 
get  there.  We  can  ride  or  drive,  whichever  you  like. 
You  prefer  to  ride  ?  All  right,  but  don't  expect  a  sleek, 
home-fed  pony,  or  a  fine  horse  champing  the  bit,  or  even 
a  well-grown,  well-fed  Egyptian  donkey;  wait  and  you 
will  see  what  riding  means  here  ! 


WOMEN   AT  A  WELL  IN   NAZARETH. 


CHAPTER    XI 


THE    COUNTRY    OF    CHRIST  S    CHILDHOOD 


If  you  only  knew  how  funny  you  look  !  Perched  up  on 
a  dirty,  thin,  white  horse  which  scrambles  along  somehow, 
while  the  great  iron  stirrups,  shaped  like  shovels,  dangle 
far  below  your  feet.  Aha  !  I  thought  so,  one  has  fallen 
off.  I  try  to  pull  up  quickly  to  dismount  and  help  you, 
and  my  bridle,  which  is  made  of  worsted,  like  the  toy 
reins  children  play  with,  breaks  suddenly  and  my  noble 
steed  comes  a  cropper  ! 

By  the  time  I  recover  and  get  to  you  I  find  our  guide, 
who  looks  more  like  a  bundle  of  rags  than  anything  else, 
tying  up  your  stirrups  with  a  crazy  bit  of  string  full  of 
knots  and  quite  rotten.  This  is  the  way  we  journey  in  the 
Holy  Land  in  the  present  year  !  Tliis  is  the  tliird  day  of 
it,  and  these  little  accidents  don't  affect  us  ;  the  harness 
must  have  been  broken  in  at  least  two  dozen  different 


139 


I40       ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

places  since  we  started,  and,  as  an  Irishman  might  say, 
most  of  it  is  made  of  gaps. 

To-day  we  ought  to  reach  Nazareth  while  it  is  still 
light,  though,  as  it  is  dull  and  grey,  the  evening  will  close  in 
sooner  than  if  the  sky  were  clear.  What  a  pity  we  could 
not  manage  to  come  here  in  the  spring  when  the  fields  of 
blue  lupins  look  like  a  strip  of  summer  sky  fallen  to  earth 
and  fill  the  air  with  their  scent  for  miles  around.  There 
are  anemones  too,  purple  and  red  and  white,  and  lilies, 
but  I  think  nothing  would  strike  us  so  much  as  the  homely 
little  daisies  which  grow  here  just  as  they  do  at  home. 
There  is  something  strange  and  yet  familiar  in  this 
country,  where  so  many  different  sorts  of  trees  and  plants 
grow,  that  a  man  coming  from  almost  anywhere  in  the 
world  will  find  something  that  carries  his  heart  back  home. 
Besides  the  daisies  we  have  the  sparrows,  just  as  pert  and 
neat  as  our  OAvn  sparrows,  yet  other  things  are  odd. 
Yesterday  we  saw  a  man  carrying  a  sheep  on  his  shoulders  ; 
he  wore  a  striped  garment  hanging  down  on  each  side  of 
his  neck,  and  even  the  sheep  did  not  seem  quite  the  same 
as  ours.  It  was  some  time  before  we  discovered  why, 
and  then  we  found  out  that  the  long  flapping  ears 
hung  down,  while  the  ears  of  our  sheep  are  small  and 
upright.  It  is  a  most  difficult  thing  to  remember  how  an 
animal's  ears  grow.  Nine  people  out  of  ten,  on  being  told 
to  draw  a  pig,  will  give  him  small,  pointed,  upright  ears, 
instead  of  making  the  flaps  fall  over  ! 

The  rest  of  the  flock  of  sheep  quietly  followed  the 
shepherd  who  carried  the  hurt  one,  for  in  the  East  sheep 
are  used  to  being  led,  instead  of  being  driven  by  a  dog,  as 
in  Britain,  and  that  is  why  so  often  we  hear  in  the  Bible 
of  the  sheep  being  led.  Jesus  took  almost  all  His  parables 
from  natural  things  around  Him — the  cornfields,  the  lilies 
growing,  the  sparrows,  and  the  vineyards. 

We  have  been  steadily  rising  for  long  past,  now  we 


COUNTRY  OF  CHRIST'S  CHILDHOOD     141 


A   MAN   CARRYING   A   SHEEP  ON   HIS  SHOULDERS. 


mount  a  steeper  bit  of  rising  ground  and  suddenly  there 
comes  into  view  a  tiny  valley  from  which  the  hills  rise 
again,  and  on  the  opposite  slope,  spread  out  before  us,  is 
Nazareth.  We  pull  up  and  look  at  it  in  silence.  The 
little,  flat-roofed,  white  houses  are  dotted  about  among 
gardens  and  trees,  and  resemble  the  square  white  dice  one 
throws  out  of  a  box.  Very  much  as  it  appears  to  us  now 
must  this  little  hill-village  have  looked  to  Jesus  when  lie 
lived  here,  except  that  the  slopes  of  the  hills  were  more 
cultivated,  and  there  were  more  houses.  Jesus  came  here 
as  a  small  child  and  lived  here  until  lie  was  thirty.  You 
know,  of  course,  every  tree  and  hole  and  stream  and  almost 
every  stone  and  birds  nest  about  your  own  home  in 
the  country  ;    you  will  never  get  to  know  any  other  place 


142   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 


--•3.-SSS— .-W-s— S-  S 


NAZARETH. 


SO  well  again  in  your  life,  for  when  one  is  grown  up  one 
can't  climb  trees  and  dabble  in  streams  and  build  huts 
and  root  about  in  the  earth.  Jesus  was  just  a  natural 
boy  ;  He  grew  to  know  all  the  byways  between  the  little 
gardens,  all  the  trees  which  bore  figs  or  pomegranates  or 
olives  or  oranges,  and  He  climbed  the  hills  around  with 
other  lads  when  He  had  a  holiday — no  other  place  would 
ever  be  to  Him  what  Nazareth  was. 

One  or  two  tall  buildings  stand  out  prominently,  these 
are  the  churches,  and  they,  of  course,  were  not  there  in  His 
time.     None  of  the  houses  can  be  the  same  after  nineteen 


COUNTRY  OF  CHRIST'S  CHILDHOOD     143 

hundred  years,  but  many  of  them  are  probably  exactly 
like  those  that  existed  then. 

As  we  go  down  toward  the  village  at  a  foot's  pace  we 
see  grave,  brown-faced,  bright-eyed  boys,  who  stand  and 
stare  but  do  not  bother  us  for  coppers,  as  the  Jerusalem 
children  did.  We  pass  in  among  the  houses  and  come  to 
the  well  where  both  men  and  women  are  standing,  for  it  is 
just  the  time  that  they  come  to  draw  water  in  the  evening. 
This  well  is  one  of  the  most  interesting  things  in  Nazareth, 
for  it  is  the  only  one,  and  has  been  known  for  generations. 
It  is  almost  certain  that  it  must  have  been  here  when  Jesus 
lived  in  the  village.  Now  it  has  a  stone  arch  over  it,  and 
as  the  water  gushes  out  the  women  fill  hand-made  earthen- 
ware jars  with  narrow  necks  and  curving  sides,  and  having 
filled  them  they  put  them  on  their  heads  and  walk  grace- 
fully away.  Just  so  must  Mary,  the  mother  of  Jesus, 
have  filled  her  jar  in  the  ages  long  ago,  and  the  child  Jesus 
may  have  clung  to  her  skirts  as  that  tiny  brown  boy  is 
doing,  shyly  hiding  at  the  sight  of  us.  The  women  are 
very  good  looking,  and  dress  in  a  great  variety  of  colours, 
many  wearing  striped  clothes.  One  or  two  have  chains 
or  bands  of  silver  coins  across  their  foreheads,  very  many 
have  bright  red  head  coverings  falling  down  over  blue 
dresses.  There  are  some  swarthy-looking  men  too,  in 
sheepskins,  and  one  is  waiting  to  water  his  camel.  On  one 
side  is  a  very  handsome  lad  of  sixteen  with  a  flock  of  black 
goats.  They  all  look  at  us  with  interest,  but  they  are 
quite  accustomed  to  strangers  and  are  not  at  all  em- 
barrassed. 

We  go  on  between  the  houses  by  the  widest  road,  which 
is  now  slippery  with  mud,  and  after  our  guide  has  asked 
permission  of  a  man  standing  in  a  doorway,  we  dismount 
and  get  a  chance  of  seeing  inside  one  of  these  little  dark 
houses.  The  only  light  comes  from  tlie  doorway,  for 
there  is  no  window  :    it  shines  into  one  room  with  a  mud 


144       ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

floor,  beaten  hard  by  many  feet.  There  are  a  few  mats 
laid  about,  a  few  stools,  and  on  one  side  a  kind  of  shelf 
with  more  mats  and  some  cushions — this  is  where  the 
family  sleep  at  night.  In  a  corner  are  some  of  the  earthen- 
ware jars  and  some  pots  and  pans.  That  is  all.  There  is 
no  reason  to  think  that  the  house  Jesus  lived  in  was  at 
all  more  luxurious  than  this. 

As  we  turn  to  go  out  we  hear  a  flutter  of  wings,  and  a 
flock  of  white  doves  rise  from  the  ground  and  alight  on  the 
roof,  cooing  softly. 

In  this  village  are  a  good  many  shops,  but  they  are 
not  the  sort  we  are  accustomed  to.  Picture  the  village 
shop  at  home  with  its  small  glass  panes  and  the  post- 
office  on  one  side.  The  window  crammed  with  marbles 
and  liquorice  and  peppermint,  and  slates  and  balls  and 
copybooks  and  hoops  and  everything  that  the  owner  thinks 
anyone  would  be  in  the  least  likely  to  buy.  In  Nazareth 
the  shops  sell  only  one  sort  of  thing,  and  those  that  sell 
the  same  sort  of  thing  have  a  general  inclination  to  come 
together.  In  one  little  street,  for  instance,  are  the  saddlers' 
shops. 

The  front  of  the  house  is  open,  but  there  is  no  glass  to 
fill  it  in,  and  we  can  see  the  men  working  at  their  trade 
inside.  The  harness  is  extremely  gay,  painted  in  all  colours, 
red  and  blue  and  yellow,  and  made  up  with  bits  of  tinsel 
and  glitter.  The  more  decorated  he  can  afford  to  have 
his  harness  the  prouder  is  the  rider.  As  we  stand  watching, 
a  number  of  women  steal  gently  up  behind  us  and  offer 
some  embroidery  they  have  made ;  they  do  not  push  or 
scramble,  and  when  we  shake  our  heads  they  melt  away 


again. 


As  we  turn  a  corner,  there,  right  in  front  of  us,  is  a 
carpenter's  shop  with  the  front  quite  open  to  the  street, 
as  in  the  harness-makers'  shops.  The  bearded  man  who 
leans  over  a  cart-wheel  and  handles  it  with  long  brown 


COUNTRY  OF  CHRIST  S  CHILDHOOD 


145 


IT   MIGHT   HAVE   BEEN  JOSEPH   HIMSELF. 


hands  might  have  been  Joseph  himself.  In  just  such  a 
workshop  as  this  Jesus  learnt  His  trade. 

The  life  of  a  little  Jewish  boy  of  those  days  was  care- 
fully ordered,  and  in  his  life  there  was  much  more  saying 
of  prayers  and  going  to  church — tliat  is,  the  synagogue 
— than  you  have  in  yours.  At  school  there  was  a  great 
deal  to  be  learnt  by  heart,  and  what  with  that  and  the 
churchgoing  and  the  workshop  there  cannot  have  been 
much  spare  time. 

We  go  slowly  on  to  the  inn,  wliere  we  are  to  pass  the 
night.  To-morrow  we  will  go  down  to  the  Sea  of  Galilee 
and  watch  the  fislicrmen  drawing  in  their  nets  as  they 
did  in  Clirist's  time  when   He  called   them  to  be  fishers 

of  men. 

10 


146   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

After  that  we  will  come  back,  pass  Nazareth  once 
more,  and  make  our  way  to  a  port  called  Haifa,  where 
we  can  get  a  steamer  to  take  us  down  to  Jaffa  instead 
of  returning  to  Jerusalem  again  by  three  days'  journey  on 
horseback. 


THERE   IT   WILL   STAY   TILL  IT  ROTS. 


CHAPTER    XII 


AN    ADVENTURE 


We  are  late,  very  late,  the  moon  is  rising  and  I  must 
confess  I  am  just  a  wee  bit  uneasy.  When  we  reached 
Haifa  safely  last  night,  coming  from  Nazareth,  and  found 
we  couldn't  get  a  steamer  till  to-morrow  it  seemed  the 
best  thing  to  drive  across  the  bay  and  get  a  look  at  Acre, 
that  celebrated  town  wliich  has  spent  its  existence  in  the 
turmoil  of  sieges  and  assaults.  It  is  a  great  fort  built 
out  into  the  sea,  and  nearly  everyone  who  wanted  to  get 
possession  of  the  Holy  Land  has  tried  first  to  take  Acre 
as  the  key  to  it.  One  of  the  most  memorable  sieges  was 
that  of  two  years  in  the  reign  of  our  own  King  Richard  i., 
who  ended  it  by  arriving  with  fresh  troops  and  helping 
his  allies  the  French  ;  but  it  is  reckoned  the  two  countries, 
between  them,  lost  100,000  men,  one  way  and  another, 
before  they  took  the  stubborn  town.  After  that  it  re- 
mained in  English  hands  for  a  century. 

The  Turks  held  it  in  nmch  later  times  against  Buona- 
parte ;  they  were  helped  by  an  Englishman,  Sir  Sydney 
Smith,  and  if  Acre  is  celebrated  for  notliing  else  it  should 
be  celebrated  for  tlic  fact  that  it  held  out  for  sixty-one 


'47 


148   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 


Ji^^ 


WOMEN   WITH   BUNDLES,   WHICH   THEY  ALWAYS  THINK   NECESSARY 
TO   DRAG   ABOUT   WITH   THEM. 

days  against  Buonaparte,  who  was  in  the  end  obliged  to 
give  up  and  go  away  ! 

We  drove  this  morning,  with  three  horses  abreast, 
across  the  twelve  miles  of  sandy  bay  between  Haifa  and 
Acre,  in  one  of  the  ramshackle  waggonettes  that  take  the 
place  of  omnibuses  and  carry  any  passengers  who  want  to 
go.  We  came  with  numbers  of  natives,  chiefly  women, 
and  innumerable  bundles  and  bags,  which  they  always 
think  it  necessary  to  drag  about  with  them.  We  did  not 
get  here  till  midday,  and  after  spending  a  few  hours  we 
had  seen  all  we  cared  to  of  the  place,  and  were  ready  to  go 
back.  But  in  the  East  things  are  not  done  like  that. 
So  we  waited  and  waited  long  after  the  hour  the  omnibus 
was  said  to  return,  and  when  at  last  the  driver  did  saunter 


AN  ADVENTURE  149 

up,  the  scarecrow  horses  had  to  be  sought  for,  and  then 
the  harness,  of  course,  had  to  be  mended  with  string,  and 
that  wasn't  nearly  the  end,  because,  after  waiting  again 
a  long  time  for  notliing  at  all  that  anyone  could  see,  a 
Turkish  woman  who  was  evidently  of  some  consequence, 
attended  by  a  maid  and  quantities  of  baggage,  came  up, 
and  everyone  had  to  turn  out  until  all  her  things  were 
stowed  away.     So  it  was  nearly  nightfall  before  we  got  off. 

The  sands  are  in  most  places  firm  and  make  good  going, 
but  a  couple  of  rivers  run  down  across  them  to  the  sea ; 
one  of  these  is  that  "  ancient  river,  the  river  Kishon," 
mentioned  in  Deborah's  song  of  triumph  when  the 
Israelites  had  overcome  their  enemies.  These  rivers 
have  to  be  crossed  with  care,  and,  not  so  long  ago,  some 
people  got  bogged  and  were  set  upon  by  robbers  and 
stripped,  and  one  was  drowned  by  the  incoming  tide  ;  but 
I  ought  not  to  tell  you  these  things.  We  are  half  across 
now,  and  the  moon  is  getting  high,  so  we  shall  have  more 
light  presently. 

Bump  !  The  horse  on  the  off-side  runs  out  of  his 
traces  suddenly  and  stands  facing  the  other  one  in  a  sort 
of  mild  amazement.  The  harness  has  given  way  once 
more.  Grumbling  and  growling  the  driver  climbs  down 
and  pulls  him  back  and  goes  on  muttering  to  himself. 
Far  off  the  lapping  of  the  water  is  heard  out  at  sea ;  it 
wouldn't  do  to  be  caught  by  the  tide  in  this  situation, 
but  they  tell  us  the  tide  has  not  turned  yet.  The  moon 
sheds  a  curious  unearthly  light  that  tills  the  air  with 
mystery.  The  long  low  sandhills  on  the  shore  show  ii{) 
plainly,  and  nearer  there  are  countless  wrecks  wliich  have 
been  piled  up  on  tliis  desolate  coast.  Tluit  large  one, 
nearest  of  all,  looks  just  like  the  huge  up-curving  ribs 
of  some  mammoth  that  has  had  the  flesli  picked  clean  from 
his  bones.  Look  !  There  is  something  moving  close  to 
it,  in  the    shadow;    what  is  it?      It  comes  out   a    httle 


I50   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

way  into  the  light,  it  is  a  furtive-looking  little  four-footed 
creature  whose  fur  shines  with  a  reddish  tinge  ;  there  is 
another,  peeping  out  from  the  sandhills,  and  another  and 
another !  They  are  all  over,  but  so  silent  and  light-footed 
are  they  that  it  is  difficult  to  believe  them  to  be  any- 
thing but  shadows.  A  wave  of  the  hand  and  they  have 
disappeared  !  They  are  jackals,  inquisitively  watching 
us  with  their  bright  eyes.  Nothing  to  be  afraid  of.  They 
dare  not  attack  a  man  if  he  is  alive,  though  they  would 
gleefully  devour  him  dead.  They  are  much  more  frightened 
of  you  than  you  are  of  them.  Weird,  shy,  furtive  little 
beasts.  One  can  imagine  them  on  a  night  like  this  playing 
games  and  chasing  one  another  in  and  out  of  the  ribs  of 
the  drowned  ship  in  a  sort  of  witches'  dance. 

Heigho  !     Well,  we're  on  again  at  last. 

We  journey  at  a  foot's  pace  for  another  mile  or  so  and 
the  lights  of  Haifa  begin  to  shine  out  clearly  ahead,  when 
all  of  a  sudden  the  carriage  seems  to  be  going  down  on 
one  side.  The  two  Turkish  women,  who  are  on  the  high 
side,  roll  violently  dow^n  on  to  us,  screaming  and  sobbing 
hysterically.  I  don't  know  what  you  feel  like,  but  I  am 
nearly  smothered  by  the  flowing  shawls  and  the  strong 
smell  of  scent ;  when  I  manage  to  get  free  I  find  that  you 
have  disappeared  altogether  till  I  get  hold  of  a  leg  and  jerk 
you  forth. 

The  carriage  has  gone  further  and  further  over  ;  the 
horses  are  splashing  and  struggling  ;  and  as  we  stand  up 
the  middle  one  goes  down  and  disappears  altogether. 
The  water  must  be  deep  and  we  are  evidently  in  the  river. 

There  is  nothing  for  it  but  to  go  to  the  driver's  help, 
so  I  leave  you  to  reassure  the  ladies  and  get  up  to  my  waist 
almost  at  once  as  we  pull  the  horse's  head  above  water, 
while  t?ie  sand  slips  away  beneath  our  feet.  The  poor 
beast,  after  desperate  kickings,  gets  on  to  his  legs  again, 
but  no  effort  of  ours  can  move  the  carriage,  which  seems  to 


AN  ADVENTURE  151 

be  sinking  deeper  and  deeper.  With  the  struggles  of  the 
horses  the  harness  has  all  come  to  bits  again,  and  the  poor, 
mild,  dismayed  creatures  turn  round,  quite  free  from  their 
trappings,  and  look  at  the  vehicle  as  much  as  to  say, 
"  Wliat  a  shabby  trick  you  have  served  us  !  " 

The  driver  brings  the  horses  alongside,  and  the  bundle 
of  scented  wrappings,  which  is  the  more  important  lady, 
is  lifted  on  the  back  of  one.  The  man  himself  gets  up 
behind  her  to  hold  her  on,  and  when  she  feels  his  wet 
embrace  she  raises  a  perfect  storm  of  shrieks  as  if  she  were 
being  carried  away  by  a  robber.  He  takes  not  the 
slightest  notice,  but  solemnly  sets  his  horse's  head  to  the 
shore,  and  they  splash  away.  By  yourself  you  have 
managed  to  land  on  to  the  back  of  the  next  horse,  and 
before  you  have  time  to  turn  round  or  do  anything  to 
help  with  the  other  lady,  the  horse  kicks  up  its  heels, 
sending  you  shooting  on  to  its  neck,  and  whinnying 
wildly  scrambles  off  after  its  comrade.  The  Turkish 
lady's  companion  makes  no  fuss  at  all  about  coming  with 
me.  She  slips  on  to  the  remaining  horse  as  if  she  were 
used  to  riding  all  her  life,  and,  sitting  astride  like  a  man, 
holds  him  in  until  I  mount  behind.  It  is  lucky  indeed 
this  animal  has  no  spirit  left,  or  she  and  I  would  have 
been  stranded  ! 

At  this  rate  we  shall  soon  reach  Haifa. 

When  we  do  get  there  what  a  chattering  and  what 
excitement  !  Unfortunately,  as  we  can't  speak  the  native 
tongue,  we  miss  most  of  it,  but  the  excited  gestures  and 
loud  voices  show  that  we  are  heroes  indeed. 

Next  morning  I  find  myself  none  the  worse  for  my 
wetting,  and  before  we  leave  we  have  the  satisfaction  of 
seeing  all  the  bundles  and  packages  belonging  to  the 
ladies  safely  recovered.  But  we  gather  that  the  waggon- 
ette remains  immovable.  We  can  see  it,  far  off,  partly 
surrounded  by  the  swirhng  water  like  a  little  b^ack  island. 


152   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

The  united  strength  of  a  dozen  men  and  six  horses  have 
been  unable  to  pull  it  on  to  firm  ground.  There  it  will 
stay  till  it  rots,  in  the  midst  of  the  stranded  ships,  and 
the  little  soft-footed  shadowy  jackals  will  dance  around 
it  and  tell  one  another  strange  tales  of  that  wonderful 
night  when  the  air  was  shaken  by  piercing  screams,  and 
strange  heavy  animals  galloped  across  the  sands,  making 
them  shake  and  quiver,  and  yet,  after  it  all,  there  was 
nothing  left  for  them  to  eat  ! 


THE   SHIPS   SEEM   TO   BE   GLIDING   ALONG  THE  TOP  OF  A  SANDBANK. 


CHAPTER    XIII 


THE    GATEWAY    OF   THE    EAST 


The  anchor  is  up  and  we  are  in  a  stately  ship  moving  on 
slowly  into  the  Suez  Canal.  When  we  arrived  at  Port 
Said — how  many  weeks  ago  was  it  ?  It  seems  to  mc  like 
a  year — we  were  on  the  Orontes,  of  the  Orient  Line,  and 
we  steamed  into  the  harbour  past  a  long  breakwater 
like  a  thin  arm  ;  standing  upon  it  is  a  statue  of  Ferdinand 
de  Lesseps,  the  man  who  made  the  Suez  Canal.  That 
meant  nothing  to  you  then,  for  the  canal  was  merely  a 
name  and  not  of  any  special  interest,  but  now  that  we 
are  actually  passing  into  it  it  is  different. 

Just  here,  you  remember,  we  are  at  the  place  where 
three  continents  meet,  Europe  being  represented  by  the 
Mediterranean  Sea.  The  other  two,  Asia  and  Africa,  are 
joined  by  a  strip  of  land  called  the  Istlunus  of  Suez,  about 
a  hundred  miles  across.  For  ages  men  liad  it  in  their 
minds  to  cut  through  this  strip  so  tliat  their  ships  could 
sail   straight  from   the  Mediterranean   into  the   Red   Sea 


I  S3 


154   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

on  the  other  side  of  the  Isthmus.  But  it  wasn't  quite 
so  easy  to  do  as  it  sounds,  for  the  land  was  mostly  desert 
sand,  and  if  you  have  ever  tried  to  dig  out  a  trench  on 
the  seashore  and  then  let  water  into  it,  you  will  know 
very  well  what  happens.  The  sides  slip  down,  and  in  a 
few  minutes  your  trench  is  level  up  to  the  top  and  is 
a  trench  no  more  ! 

The  ancient  Egyptians  frequently  marched  across  the 
Isthmus  with  their  armies  and  advanced  into  Palestine 
and  made  war  on  the  wild  tribes  there.  They  built  also 
a  strong  wall  across  the  Isthmus  to  prevent  the  inhabitants 
of  Palestine  from  retaliating,  just  as  the  Romans  built 
a  wall  across  Northumbria  to  hold  back  the  Picts  and 
Scots. 

It  was  not  until  comparatively  recent  days,  that  is 
to  say,  in  the  time  of  your  grandfather,  that  the  attempt 
to  cut  a  canal  across  the  Isthmus  was  successful,  and  the 
man  who  did  it  was  Ferdinand  de  Lesseps,  whose  statue 
stands  on  the  breakwater.  He  was  a  Frenchman,  but  he 
wished  to  get  other  nations  to  help  in  the  great  work,  as 
France  could  not  raise  all  the  money  alone  ;  unfortunately 
Great  Britain  would  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  idea, 
though  luckily  afterwards,  when  the  canal  had  been 
built,  the  Government  managed  to  buy  a  large  number  of 
the  shares  in  it  from  the  Egyptian  Government.  It  took 
ten  years  to  make  the  canal,  but  it  was  done  at  last  after 
the  expenditure  of  quantities  of  money  and  the  loss  of 
many  lives,  and  even  up  to  the  opening  day  there  were 
many  who  scoffed  and  said  it  could  never  be  made  useful ; 
yet  now  that  bronze  statue  stands  solemnly  watching, 
day  by  day,  the  great  ships  of  many  nations  crawling 
slowly  into  the  narrow  opening  at  the  northern  end. 

Not  only  had  the  canal  to  be  made  but  it  has  to  be 
kept  in  working  order,  for  the  sand  silts  back  into  the 
channel,   and  so  numbers  of  dredgers  are  constantly  at 


THE  GATEWAY  OF  THE  EAST  155 

work  scraping  out  the  bottom  so  as  to  keep  it  deep 
enough  for  ships  of  large  size. 

At  first  the  depth  of  the  main  channel  was  twenty-six 
feet,  but  now  it  has  been  deepened  to  twenty-nine  feet ; 
but  even  that  seems  less  than  we  should  expect. 

At  one  time  the  storms  of  January  and  February 
used  to  drive  quantities  of  sand  from  the  Mediterranean 
into  the  mouth  of  the  canal,  and  even  now,  though  the 
breakwater  has  been  lengthened  to  prevent  it,  there  is 
always  difficulty.  Steamers  are  only  allowed  to  go  through 
slowly,  otherwise  the  suction  or  pull  of  the  water  they 
disturb  would  tear  down  the  banks  and  soon  make  the 
canal  useless.  You  have  no  idea  what  a  wave  a  big  ship 
can  raise  in  going  through  that  narrow  trough  ;  even  at 
a  moderate  pace  it  would  be  sufficient  to  tear  another 
ship  from  her  moorings  by  the  bank,  and  then  there 
might  be  a  collision  and  disastrous  results.  Ships  have 
to  pay  a  heavy  toll  for  the  privilege  of  using  the  short  cut, 
but  the  toll  is  needed  to  meet  the  working  expenses  and  to 
pay  the  interest  on  the  money  spent  in  the  construction. 

The  ship  we  are  in  is  considerably  larger  than  the 
Orontes ;  she  is  the  Medina,  belonging  to  the  P.  &  O. 
Company,  and  was  chosen  to  take  the  King  and  Queen 
to  India  in  1911.  She  is  not  very  cheerful  looking  outside, 
being  painted  buff,  with  black  funnels,  but  she  is  a  com- 
fortable boat,  and  we  are  lucky  in  having  a  large  cabin 
on  the  upper  deck,  so  that  we  can  have  our  port-hole  open 
whatever  the  weather  may  be. 

The  sun  is  setting  in  a  flame  of  salmon  and  scarlet  as 
we  pass  the  canal  offices  and  turn  into  the  narrow  channel. 
There  are  sidings  dug  out  about  every  five  or  six  miles, 
for  as  only  one  big  ship  can  go  through  at  a  time,  if  she 
meets  another,  one  of  them  must  stop  and  tie  up.  Tliere 
are  telegraph  stations  at  every  siding,  and  every  sliip 
entering  the  canal  is  controlled  all  the  way  by  an  elaborate 


156   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

system  of  signals  which  tells  the  pilot  exactly  what  he 
is  to  do,  whether  he  must  "  shunt  into  a  siding,"  to  use 
railway  language,  or  if  he  may  go  right  ahead. 

Directly  we  are  in  the  canal  we  see  over  the  banks  on 
both  sides  ;  on  the  west  is  a  wide  sheet  of  water  lit  up 
to  smoky-red  by  the  reflection  of  the  sinking  sun.  Flocks 
of  storks  and  pelicans  and  other  birds  cover  it  at  certain 
times  of  the  year  to  fish  in  the  shallow  salt  waters,  for 
this  is  a  salt  lake,  a  sort  of  overflow  from  the  sea.  One 
day  it  will  be  drained  and  then  crops  can  grow  upon  it. 
The  canal  is  cut  through  it  and  hemmed  in  by  an  embank- 
ment ;  farther  on  it  runs  through  the  desert  and  then 
goes  through  another  lake.  For  the  greater  part  of  the 
way  a  railway  line  runs  beside  it,  passing  through  Ismailia, 
the  junction  for  Cairo,  and  going  on  to  Suez,  and  from 
some  parts  of  this  line  you  can  see  a  strange  spectacle,  for, 
as  no  water  is  visible,  the  ships  appear  to  be  gliding  along 
the  top  of  a  sandbank  ;  there  is  apparently  just  a  huge 
modern  steamer  lost  among  the  sandhills  and  making  the 
best  of  her  way  back  to  the  sea  ! 

The  pilot  who  is  on  board  now  takes  us  to  Ismailia, 
half-way  down,  and  then  another  replaces  him  as  far  as 
Suez,  where  the  canal  ends.  Every  ship  over  one  hundred 
tons  is  compelled  to  carry  a  pilot,  who  is  responsible  for 
her  while  she  is  in  the  difficult  channel.  And,  indeed, 
a  pilot  is  necessary,  for  the  canal  is  not  by  any  means  a 
straight,  deep  trench  ;  there  are  curves  where  it  is  a 
delicate  job  to  manoeuvre  a  ship  of  any  length,  and  in 
places  in  the  deeper  lakes  the  course  is  only  marked  by 
buoys.  It  needs  a  man  who  spends  his  whole  time  at  the 
work  and  gives  all  his  attention  to  it.  The  danger  at  the 
curves  is  lest  the  propeller  at  the  stern  should  come  in 
contact  with  the  banks,  so  the  ship  has  to  be  manoeuvred 
most  slowly  and  carefully  round  them.  Only  at  one  place 
in  the  whole    length   of  the  canal  was  no    digging  out 


THE  GATEWAY  OF  THE  EAST  157 

necessary.  This  is  in  the  great  Bitter  Lake,  where  for 
eight  miles  the  water  is  deep  enough  for  the  ships  to  pass 
safelv. 

There  is  not  much  to  see  at  first ;  the  banks  are  Uncd 
by  scrubby  bushes,  and  on  them,  in  a  sandy  open  patch,  we 
see  a  man  falhng  and  bowing  at  his  evening  devotions  ; 
a  few  camels  pass  along  the  raised  bank,  looking  like 
gigantic  spiders  against  the  illuminated  sky,  and  there 
comes  faintly  to  us  tlie  distant  bark  of  a  jackal. 

Wien  we  come  on  deck  again  after  dinner  we  find 
the  air  quite  mild  ;  we  are  only  going  at  the  rate  of  six 
miles  an  hour,  which  is  the  speed-limit. 

Somewhere  across  the  desert  where  we  are  passing 
to-night  have  passed  also  the  feet  of  many  mighty  ones 
of  history.  Abraham  crossed  it  with  Sarah,  his  beautiful 
wife,  Joseph  was  carried  down  a  captive  over  the  caravan 
track  of  that  day.  Later  on  his  brothers  twice  journeyed, 
driven  by  famine,  and  lastly  came  old  Jacob  also.  Many 
times,  as  we  know,  did  the  armies  of  the  Pharaohs  start 
out  in  all  the  panoply  of  war  and  return  victorious 
bringing  captives  in  chains.  Across  the  wilderness  some- 
where Moses  led  forth  the  children  of  Israel,  and,  most 
wonderful  remembrance  of  all,  Joseph,  the  carpenter  of 
Nazareth,  brought  down  to  Egypt  his  wife  and  her  infant 
son  to  escape  the  wrath  and  jealousy  of  Herod.  Hardly 
any  strip  of  land  we  could  name  has  so  many  associations 
interesting  to   all  the  world. 

Why  do  you  start  and  catch  hold  of  my  arm  to  draw 
my  attention  ?  That  is  only  a  Lascar,  one  of  the  sailors, 
a  picturesque  fellow,  isn't  he  ?  Didn't  you  notice  them 
when  we  came  on  board  ?  The  P.  &  O.  sliips  carry  a  crew 
of  Lascars  to  work  under  tlic  white  quartermasters  ; 
tliey  are  dark  brown  men  with  si  lining  eyes  and  gleaming 
teetii,  who  dress  in  bright  blue  witli  red  l)elts  and  caps  ; 
tliey  love  a  bit  of  finery  and  stick  it  on  wherever  tiiey  can. 


158   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

They  come  from  the  coasts  of  India  and  usually  sign  on 
for  three  years  under  one  of  their  own  headmen  called  a 
serang ;  you  can  always  pick  him  out  by  the  silver  chain  of 
office  w^hich  he  wears  round  his  neck,  Lord-Mayor  fashion. 
I  saw  him  just  now,  a  little  man  rather  like  a  monkey. 
He  is  a  very  important  personage,  for  all  the  orders  are 
given  through  him,  and  he  receives  the  pay  for  his  men  and 

is  responsible  for  their  good 
behaviour.  Woe  be  to  the  man 
who  is  insubordinate  !  Not  only 
will  he  be  punished  now,  but  his 
whole  village  will  hear  about  it, 
and  he  will  be  disgraced  and  find 
it  difficult  to  get  work  there- 
after. 

The  moon  is  covered  with 
clouds  to-night,  which  is  a  pity, 
but  the  brilliant  reflectors  the 
ship  carries  in  her  bows  throw 
the  light  well  ahead  on  to  both 
banks. 

Hullo  !  We're  coming  to 
something  ;  there  is  another  ship 
tied  up  waiting  for  us  to  pass. 
No,  it  is  true  I  can't  make  her 
out,  but  I  can  see  her  search- 
lights, so  I  guess  she  is  behind 
them.  Very  slowly  we  crawl 
on,  making  hardly  a  ripple ;  we  are  going  dead  slow  now, 
scarcely  moving,  in  fact.  That  light  from  the  other  ship 
is  blinding ;  just  where  it  strikes  the  water  there  are 
any  number  of  little  fish  wriggling  and  squirming  in  an 
ecstasy  of  painful  delight.  The  water  is  alive  with  them, 
churning  and  threshing  over  one  another  like  a  pot  full 
of  eels.     Bright  lights  attract   fish    and  it  is  a  very  old 


A   LASCAR. 


THE  GATEWAY  OF  THE  EAST  159 

dodge,  known  all  over  the  world,  to  hold  a  flare  over  the 
water  and  then  spear  or  net  the  fish  who  are  attracted 
by  it.  Fish  must  have  something  akin  to  moths  in  their 
nature,  as  many  of  them  simply  cannot  resist  a  light. 

Now  we  are  alongside ;  the  other  ship's  light  is  out  of 
our  eyes  and  our  own  falls  full  upon  her.  What  a  spectacle  ! 
She  looks  like  a  phantom  ship  carrying  a  cargo  of  ghosts  ! 
She  is  transformed  by  our  lights  into  blue  fire  !  Every 
plank  and  rope  stands  out  brilliantly  in  the  ghastly  light. 
Her  decks  are  crowded  by  a  mass  of  turbaned  and  fez- 
covered  men,  mostly  in  light  garments,  and  they,  their 
faces  and  their  clothing,  are  all  blue-white.  They  stand 
silently,  packed  side  by  side  like  sardines ;  it  doesn't 
look  as  if  they  would  have  room  to  lie,  or  even  to  sit  down. 
As  we  glide  slowly  past  a  strange  odour  floats  over  from 
them  enveloping  us — an  odour  made  up  of  spices  and 
camels  and  tired  unwashed  humanity  ;  there  is  a  hint  of 
coffee  in  it  and  a  touch  of  wood-smoke — it  suggests  Eastern 
bazaars  and  the  desert. 

Then  our  light  slips  off  them  and  we  see  the  ship  as  she 
really  is  under  the  faintly  diffused  light  of  the  clouded 
moon.  She  is  a  dirty  commonplace  hulk,  packed  witli 
men  in  soiled  clothes,  no  longer  the  radiant  white  ship 
of  our  vision. 

"  Taking  pilgrims  back  from  Mecca,"  says  one  of  the 
passengers  who  is  leaning  over  the  rail  near  us  smoking. 
*'  They  pack  them  like  cattle  usually.  On  some  of  these 
vessels  their  fare  doesn't  include  any  accommodation  or 
food;  they  have  to  bargain  witli  the  captain  for  n  bit  of 
deck  to  lie  down  on,  and  the  higliest  bidder  secures  the 
best  place  !  " 

Mecca,  wliich  lies  many  miles  inland  from  tlic  port  of 
Jiddah,  half-way  down  the  Red  Sea,  is  the  birth|)lace  of 
Moliammed,  and  the  sacred  city  of  the  Mohammedans  ; 
when  they  kneel  at  their  devotions  it  is  with  tlieir  faces 


i6o   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

turned  towards  Mecca.  Those  who  have  managed  ta 
pilgrimage  there  even  once  in  their  lives  are  looked  upon 
as  superior  beings. 

The  siding  we  have  just  passed  is  one  of  the  largest  in 
the  canal,  and  three  ships  can  lie  up  there  together  if 
necessary.  It  is  here  that  the  Syrian  caravans  cross  over 
into  Africa. 

Next  morning  we  are  up  on  deck  in  good  time,  as  we 
want  to  see  all  we  can  of  the  canal.  We  are  bv  this  time 
out  in  the  wide  water  of  the  Bitter  Lake,  where  we  can  go  at 
a  good  speed,  then  the  canal  itself  begins  again  and  we  pass 
one  of  the  little  station-houses  where  the  signalmen  live  ; 
it  looks  as  if  it  was  built  out  of  a  child's  bricks,  and  stands 
on  the  arid  banks  with  only  a  few  scanty  palms  near.  It 
must  be  a  dreary  sort  of  life  for  ever  signalling  to  ships 
which  are  going  onward  to  all  countries  of  the  world,  while 
you  yourself  remain  pinned  down  in  the  same  few  square 
yards  of  land. 

This  narrow  waterway  that  passes  down  between  Asia 
on  the  one  side  and  Africa  on  the  other  is  stimulating  to 
the  imagination. 

We  catch  a  glimpse  of  Suez  afar  off  and  run  by  a  tree- 
shadowed  road  that  leads  to  a  peninsula,  where  are  the 
P.  &  O.  offices  and  a  row  of  houses  inhabited  by  the 
men  whose  work  in  life  it  is  to  look  after  the  canal.  Notice 
that  buoy  on  the  port  side  of  the  ship,  it  is  about  as  far 
from  the  bank  as  a  man  could  throw  a  cricket-ball,  yet 
through  that  strip  of  water,  which  marks  the  deepest 
channel,  every  ship  has  to  pass  either  on  entering  or 
leaving  the  canal.  Think  of  it  !  Between  five  thousand 
and  six  thousand  ships  steam  through  in  a  year,  they  are 
of  all  sizes,  of  many  nations,  carrying  many  kinds  of  cargo. 
There  are  the  mail  ships  and  passenger  ships  of  the 
European  countries,  there  are  pilgrim  ships  from  Russia 
and  Turkey,  there  are  transports  carrying  our  own  khaki- 


THE  GATEWAY  OF  THE  EAST 


i6i 


IN   THE   SUEZ   CANAL,    THE   NARROW    WATERWAY   BETWEEN 
ASIA   AND    AFRICA. 

clad  soldiers ;  you  can  always  recognise  one  of  these 
transports,  for  she  is  painted  white  and  carries  a  large 
white  number  on  a  black  square  at  the  stem  and  stern. 
Then  there  are  merchant  ships  innumerable  ;  it  is  true 
that  the  heavily  laden  Australian  ships  go  home  round  the 
Cape,  as  the  distance  (from  Sydney)  is  much  the  same, 
but  those  stored  with  teak  wood  from  Burma,  with  tea, 
cotton,  spices,  and  silk  from  China,  Ceylon,  and  India 
come  through  here.  If  a  boy  were  to  sit  on  the  verandah 
of  one  of  those  houses  and  hear  the  names,  destinations, 
and  freight  of  all  the  vessels  he  saw,  he  could  learn  the 
geography  and  commerce  of  half  the  world  with  hardly  an 
effort  ! 

That  range  of  mountains  across  there,  which  look 
strangely  like  ruined  forts  and  castles,  forms  part  of  the 
great  peninsula  of  Sinai  where  the  Law  was  given  to 
Moses,  and  though  it  is  in  Asia  it  now  belongs  to  Egypt. 
It  looks  as  if  you  could  hit  it  with  a  stone,  so  wonderfully 
do  distant  objects  stand  out  in  this  clear  atmosphere, 
but  it  is  seven  or  eight  miles  away.  That  dark  clump  mid- 
way between  it  and  the  sea  marks  the  place  called  Moses' 

Well. 

1 1 


1 62   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

We  are  in  the  Gulf  of  Suez  now,  and  it  must  have  been 
somewhere  about  here  that  the  Israehtes  crossed  over 
with  the  host  of  Pharaoh  pursuing  them. 

We  are  getting  up  better  speed,  and  it  is  not  long 
before  we  have  reached  the  end  of  the  gulf  and  pass  out 
into  the  wide  waters  of  the  Red  Sea. 

There  were  two  delusions  I  cherished  for  many  a 
year  about  this  sea.  I  always  imagined  it  a  long,  narrow 
strip,  like  a  river,  in  which  you  could  see  from  bank  to 
bank  as  you  sailed  along ;  and  secondly,  I  thought  there 
must  be  some  red  colouring  on  the  banks  or  in  the  water 
to  account  for  the  strange  name.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  the 
sea  is  over  one  thousand  miles  long  and  varies  from  twenty 
to  one  hundred  and  eighty  miles  in  breadth.  Being  on  it 
in  a  ship  is  like  being  out  in  the  open  ocean,  for  one  can  see 
no  shore.  The  name  "  Red  "  Sea  has  never  been  satis- 
factorily explained,  but  some  people  suggest  that  it  may 
have  arisen  from  the  spawn  or  eggs  of  fish  which  float  on 
the  surface  in  quantities  at  certain  times  of  the  year  and 
are  of  a  reddish  tinge,  others  say  it  is  from  the  coral  which 
grows  so  well  here,  and  others  think  it  may  have  something 
to  do  with  the  rocks  of  red  porphyry  on  the  Egyptian 
side  of  the  Arabian  Gulf. 

For  the  first  time  since  we  left  England  we  begin  now, 
as  we  go  southward,  to  feel  uncomfortably  hot.  It  was 
never  too  hot  in  Egypt,  for  there  was  always  a  fresh  wind. 
Here  at  first  we  have  a  following  wind  which  makes  it 
seem  dead  calm  ;  there  is  a  kind  of  clammy  dampness  in 
the  air  which  makes  it  impossible  to  do  anything  requiring 
energy.  The  deck  games  of  "  bull "  and  quoits  and 
even  cricket,  which  have  been  carried  on  in  such  a  lively 
way  lately,  fall  off ;  no  one  cares  to  do  anything. 

Even  the  children  cease  from  troubling.  There  are 
quite  a  number  of  them  on  board,  for  this  is  an  Australian 
ship  ;    if  she  were  going  to  India  there  would  be  no  small 


THE  GATEWAY  OF  THE  EAST  163 

children.  Here  I  counted  fifteen  at  the  table  downstairs 
where  they  have  their  meals.  You,  of  course,  are  treated 
as  a  grown-up  person,  and  quite  right  too,  as  you  are  on  the 
eve  of  a  public  school.  I  wonder  how  you  will  settle  down 
at  Harrow  next  winter  after  all  this  change  !  There  is 
only  one  other  boy  of  about  the  same  age.  I  saw  you 
talking  to  him  this  morning ;  what  do  you  make  of 
him  ? 

A  "  rotter  "  ?  Yes,  I  thought  so  too.  He  seems  to 
consider  that  the  greatest  fun  on  board  is  to  rumple  up 
the  stewards'  hair  or  to  knock  off  their  caps,  and  as  they 
can't  retaliate  it  is  poor  sport.  He  never  plays  games 
either,  which  is  odd  considering  he  is  an  Australian. 

Oh,  I  hoped  that  child  had  sunk  into  a  sweet  slumber  ! 
He  is  a  nuisance  ;  he  can't  be  more  than  four,  but  he  never 
seems  to  rest  day  or  night,  and  he  spends  the  laziest  hour 
of  the  afternoon  dragging  a  squeaking  cart  up  and  down 
the  wooden  deck,  to  the  annoyance  of  everyone  except 
the  fond  mother,  who  encourages  it  as  a  sign  of  genius  ! 
Odd  one  never  can  travel  without  at  least  one  child  of 
that  sort  on  board.  There's  a  nice  alcove  aft  behind  the 
smoking-room  where  we  may  find  refuge. 

Yes,  I  grant  the  little  girls  are  just  as  bad  as  the  boys ; 
there  is  that  pert  spoilt  little  miss  who  rushes  after  the 
steward  when  he  carries  round  the  hors  d'ceuvre  before 
dinner  and  clamours  for  them. 

"  They're  not  for  children,"  he  told  her. 

"  But  mother  doesn't  forbid  me  to  have  them,"  she 
retorted,  standing  on  one  leg  with  her  fmgcr  in  her 
mouth. 

If  she  refrained  from  doing  only  what  her  mother  did 
forbid  her  she  would  have  a  fairly  easy  time  I  think. 

It  is  too  stifling  to  sleep  in  the  cabin,  so  we  will  try  tlie 
deck  to-night.  It  is  rather  pleasant  stepping  out  on  to  the 
warm  dry  boards  when  the  lights  are  out.     The  awning 


1 64   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

shuts  us  in  overhead,  but  at  the  side  we  can  see  the  smooth 
water  lying  white  in  the  moonhght.  Here  is  our  place, 
with  our  mattresses  laid  out  neatly  side  by  side  and  the 
number  of  our  cabin  scrawled  in  white  chalk  on  the  wooden 
boards  beside  them.  There  is  a  story  of  a  certain  ape 
who  got  loose  on  board  ship  and  paid  a  visit  to  the  deck 
when  all  the  men  were  asleep  !  A  funny  sight  it  must  have 
been  as  he  landed  on  the  top  of  one  after  the  other  ! 

In  spite  of  the  calmness  of  the  night  it  is  always  more 
or  less  noisy  on  a  ship  :  there  is  the  flap  of  an  awning,  the 
crack  of  a  rope,  the  creaking  of  the  plates,  and  the  frilling 
away  of  the  water  past  the  ship's  side.  I  lie  awake  a 
long  time,  turning  uneasily  and  feeling  the  taste  of  the 
salt  on  my  lips.  At  last,  low  down  between  the  rails, 
away  on  the  horizon,  I  see  the  well-known  constellation, 
the  Southern  Cross.  You  have  often  heard  of  it  I  expect. 
It  is  one  of  the  most  famous  groups  of  stars  in  the  southern 
hemisphere  and  as  much  beloved  by  southerners  as  the 
Great  Bear  is  by  us.  As  the  Great  Bear  sinks  night  by 
night  lower  in  the  north  so  the  Southern  Cross  rises  into 
sight.  It  is  not  a  very  brilliant  or  even  cross,  but  rather 
straggly,  and  the  stars  are  not  very  large,  but  it  means 
much — hot  skies,  blue-black  and  brilliantly  star-spangled, 
lines  of  white  surf  breaking  on  silvery  sand  beneath  palm 
trees,  fire-flies  and  scented  air — I  am  growing  drowsy 
at  last — sleep  is  coming.  ...  I  must  show  you  the  cross 
another  night. 

Hullo  !  it's  morning  !  A  Lascar  is  standing  by  grin- 
ning, with  a  bucket  of  water  and  a  deck-swab  ;  they  want 
to  begin  holystoning  down  the  decks.  How  sleepy  I  am ! 
And  as  for  you,  the  night  steward,  who  is  still  on  duty, 
lifts  you  in  his  arms  and  carries  you  into  your  bunk,  where 
you'll  find  yourself  when  you  do  wake.  It's  only  five — 
time  for  some  more  hours  yet.  Sleeping  on  deck  is  rather 
an  overrated  amusement  I  think  ! 


THE  GATEWAY  OF  THE  EAST  165 

Before  getting  out  of  the  Red  Sea  into  the  Indian 
Ocean  we  have  to  pass  through  the  Straits  of  Babel- 
Mandeb,  which  means  the  Gate  of  Affliction  or  Tears, 
because  of  the  numerous  WTccks  there  have  been  here. 
Then  we  stop  at  Aden,  where  the  passengers  going  on  to 
India  change  to  another  P.  &  O.  steamer,  the  Salsette^ 
which  is  waiting  for  them.  The  Medina  goes  across  to 
Ceylon  and  then  south  to  Austraha,  but  the  ship  following 
her  next  week  goes  straight  to  India. 

It  is  luckv  for  Britain  that  she  o>\tis  Aden,  for  it  is 
the  doorway  at  the  south  end  of  the  Red  Sea,  as  the  canal 
is  the  doorway  at  the  north  end.  Of  course  it  is  more 
important  to  us  that  the  route  to  the  East  should  be  kept 
clear  than  it  is  to  any  nation,  because  in  case  of  diffi- 
culties in  India  we  should  have  to  send  troops  there  at 
once.  It  is  more  by  good  luck  than  good  management 
that  just  these  little  corners  of  the  world,  that  mean 
so  much  should  happen  to  fall  into  our  possession — 
Gibraltar,  for  instance,  the  gateway  of  the  Mediterranean. 
And  though  the  British  Government  refused  to  have  any 
hand  in  the  making  of  the  Suez  Canal,  yet  afterwards, 
because  the  Khedive  of  Egypt  was  hard  up  and  willing  to 
sell  his  shares,  we  bought  at  a  reasonable  rate  and  have 
much  influence  in  the  management  of  the  canal. 

Standing  beside  us,  watching  the  passengers  for  India 
climb  down  the  gangway,  is  a  fresh-looking,  pink-faced 
young  man  of  about  one-and-twenty.  He  has  a  simple 
look,  and  you  would  think  he  was  too  young  and  innocent 
to  go  round  the  world  by  himself. 

"  I'm  right  down  glad  I'm  not  going  to  '  do  '  India," 
he  remarks.  "  I'm  sick  of  travelling ;  I'm  just  longing  to 
get  back." 

"  To  Australia  ?  " 

"Yes;  I'm  a  slicc})-farmcr  tlicre.  I've  worked  four 
years  without  a  break,  so  I  took  a  holiday  in  Europe." 


i66   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

Am'thing  less  like  one's  idea  of  a  sheep-farmer  it  would 
be  hard  to  find  !  I  always  pictured  them  stern  bearded 
men,  with  brick-red  faces  and  sinewy  limbs.  This  lad 
doesn't  look  as  if  he  had  ever  been  in  a  strong  sun,  and  his 
slender  loose-jointed  legs  and  arms  do  not  give  the  im- 
pression of  an  open-air  life  spent  mostly  in  the  saddle. 

"  You  have  a  sheep-farm  ?     Hard  life,  isn't  it  ?  " 

"  Best  life  in  the  world,"  he  answers  with  enthusiasm. 
"  Always  on  horseback,  miles  of  open  country,  not  shut 
in  by  beastly  houses." 

"  But  there's  a  lack  of  water,  isn't  there  ?  " 

"  You  can  always  sink  a  well,  that's  what  they  do  now. 
It  costs  a  good  deal,  but  you  can  get  water  almost  any- 
where within  reason," 

"  Are  you  far  out  ?  '^ 

"  No,  only  about  three  hundred  and  forty  miles  from  the 
town  where  my  mother  lives.  I  go  down  to  see  her  at 
week-ends  ;  we're  lucky  in  being  close  to  a  station,  only 
a  fifteen-mile  ride." 

Three  hundred  and  forty  miles  !  About  the  distance 
from  London  to  Berwick  !  Good  place  for  week-ends, 
especially  with  a  fifteen-mile  ride  at  one  end  !  I  suppose 
our  ideas  get  small  from  living  in  a  little  country.  Pity 
we  can't  visit  Australia,  but  we  can't  manage  it  this  time. 
That  great  island-continent  and  its  sister.  New  Zealand, 
are  well  worth  seeing.  Except  for  the  Canadians  there  are 
no  people  nearer  akin  to  us  than  the  Australasians.  The 
world-famous  harbour  of  Sydney,  the  great  hills  clothed 
in  eucalyptus,  hiding  in  their  depths  vast  caverns  of 
stalactites,  the  wide  open  ranges  stretching  for  leagues 
inland,  all  these  things  are  attractive.  In  New  Zealand, 
too,  we  should  find  tree-ferns  of  gigantic  size,  lovely 
scenery,  and  spouting  geysers  ;  it  is  an  England  set  in  a 
very  different  climate  from  ours  !  Then  we  might  pass 
on  to  those  strange  South  Seas,  gemmed  by  coral  islands, 


THE  GATEWAY  OF  THE  EAST  167 

and  to  the  latitudes  where  the  mighty  albatross  swings 
overhead  like  an  aeroplane,  only,  unlike  an  aeroplane,  he 
glides  in  a  never-ending  plane  without  apparent  effort  or 
even  one  flap  of  his  huge  twelve-foot  wings. 
Alas,  we  can't  see  everything  this  trip  ! 


A   FLYING   FISH. 


CHAPTER    XIV 

THE   DEPTHS    OF   THE    OCEAN 

Now  we  are  right  out  in  the  Indian  Ocean,  and  it  is  a 
bright  day  with  a  certain  freshness  in  the  air,  instead  of 
that  horrible  muggy  heat  that  made  us  feel  so  languid 
when  we  were  in  the  Red  Sea.  Look  over  the  ship's  side 
and  watch  the  rainbow  in  the  spray  ;  that  is  one  of  the 
prettiest  things  to  see  on  board.  As  the  vessel  cuts  through 
the  water  she  raises  a  frill  of  foam  on  either  side — what  the 
sailors  call  "  a  bone  in  her  mouth."  The  frill,  rising  to  a 
continuous  wave  along  the  side,  catches  the  sunlight  and 
a  perpetual  rainbow  dances  in  it,  changing  always  but 
remaining  ever.  Whew !  What  a  rush  !  Flying  fish. 
Look  at  them  !  These  are  the  first  we  have  seen  so  near ; 
when  they  spring  out  of  the  water  like  that  and  skim 
along  in  the  air  they  are  not  doing  it  for  fun,  but  to  escape 
a  bitter  enemy  in  the  water,  the  bonito,  a  ferocious  large 
fish  who  preys  upon  them ;  he  is  their  chief  foe,  but  there 
are  many  others  also.  They  curve  up  all  together  like  a 
glittering  bow  and  slither  down  again.  In  dropping  back 
into  the  sea  they  make  a  kind  of  pattering  noise,  though, 
of  course,  we  are  too  far  to  hear  it,  and  the  fishermen  in 
the  small  islands  near  India  make  use  of  this  in  trying  to 

i68 


THE  DEPTHS  OF  THE  OCEAN  169 

catch  the  bonito.  They  go  out  in  boats  specially  built 
for  the  purpose,  with  a  kind  of  platform  overhanging  the 
stern  ;  here  they  sit  and  make  a  splashing  with  their 
paddles,  at  the  same  time  using  some  little  fish,  which 
they  catch  and  breed  in  tanks,  for  bait.  The  noise 
attracts  the  large  fish,  who  think  there  is  a  shoal  of  the 
small  fry  about,  and  they  jump  at  the  bait  and  are  caught. 
The  catch  is  often  very  good,  and  the  boats  come  back 
to  the  huts  laden  with  the  ogre  fish,  destined  to  be  eaten 
in  their  turn  ! 

Have  you  ever  thought  what  it  must  be  like  right  down 
there  in  the  deeps  below  the  green  water  ?  We  can't 
see  because  of  the  light  striking  the  surface,  but  if  we  had 
a  water-glass  we  could.  This  is  a  wooden  funnel  like  that 
made  of  paper  by  village  shopkeepers  to  roll  up  soft  sugar 
in.  At  the  broad  end  is  a  piece  of  strong  glass,  which  is 
thrust  under  the  water,  and  by  peering  through  the  small 
end  it  is  possible  to  make  out  what  is  happening  below 
if  it  is  not  too  deep  ;  anyway,  we  are  too  high  up  out  of 
the  water  to  use  one  here  even  if  we  had  it,  but  in  a  boat 
near  the  coral  reefs  and  islands  there  are  wonderful  things 
to  be  seen  by  the  help  of  one  of  these  glasses. 

If  you  dropped  a  stone  overboard  here  it  would  sink 
and  sink  gradually  for  about  two  miles,  until  it  found  a 
resting-place  on  a  slimy  bottom  of  ooze  in  a  strange  dark 
place.  You  have  a  pretty  good  idea  of  wluit  a  mile  is  from 
running  in  the  school  races ;  in  imagination  set  it  up  on 
end,  and  add  another  to  it,  and  then  tliink  of  that  stone 
sinking  that  distance  into  the  grey  water  !  Down  there 
it  must  be  quite  dark,  for  the  mass  of  water  above  cuts  off 
the  sunliglit  like  a  black  curtain.  There  are  many  beasts 
living  tliere,  nevertheless;  lobsters  and  other  shcll-fisli  as 
well  as  fish,  and  in  a  great  many  cases  those  tliat  have  been 
examined  are  found  to  luive  no  eyes  ;  it  is  probable  that 
tliey  liave  lost  their  eyesiglit  in  the  course  of  many  genera- 


I70   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

tions,  because  it  would  be  no  help  to  them  in  getting  a  living 
in  those  black  depths.  The  subject  is  not  fully  understood 
yet,  because  some  deep-sea  fishes  have  exceptionally  good 
sight,  but  these  may  possibly  live  higher  up  in  the  water, 
where  there  is  a  certain  amount  of  glare,  and  then  their  eyes 
would  become  sharpened  by  necessity. 

The  bed  of  the  ocean  is  not  a  level  plain ;  if  you  could 
see  it  emptied  of  all  water,  you  would  discover  that  the 
land   slopes   down,    sometimes   gradually   and   sometimes 

with  terrific  preci- 
pices from  the  shores, 
and  that  at  the 
mouths  of  great 
rivers  there  are 
great  banks  of  mud 
brought  down  by 
the  current  and  piled 
up,  making  a  fat 
living  for  innumer- 
able sea-creatures. 
But  at  the  very 
bottom,  in  this 
carpet  of  slime,  there 
are  no  weeds,  or  as 
we  might  call  them  sea-vegetables,  for  they  cannot  live 
altogether  without  light,  so  the  creatures  which  have 
their  home  in  what  to  us  would  seem  this  cheerless,  miser- 
able retreat,  must  live  on  one  another.  They  are  differ- 
ently built  from  surface  fish,  because  they  have  always 
resting  upon  them  the  weight  of  an  enormous  pile  of 
water.  Picture  a  pyramid  of  water  two  miles  high  resting 
on  anybody.  It  would  crush  him  to  atoms ;  but  the  fish 
and  Crustacea  down  there  are  used  to  it,  and  fitted  by 
nature  to  support  it,  and  so,  if  they  are  brought  up  to  the 
surface  by  any  means,  they  burst  !     In  deep-sea  trawling 


y^^^,timMmi>, 


DEEP-SEA   FISH. 


THE  DEPTHS  OF  THE  OCEAN  171 

it  is  quite  a  common  occurrence  to  see  fishes  literally 
burst  open,  with  their  eyes  protruding  from  the  sockets, 
and  this  annoys  the  fishermen,  because  they  are  of  no  use 
for  the  market  in  that  condition.  It  is  difficult  to  imagine 
creatures  unable  to  live  without  a  great  weight  resting 
on  them,  but  as  a  matter  of  fact  it  is  the  same  thing  with 
us  in  a  less  degree.  There  is  a  column  of  air  some  miles 
high  resting  on  every  one  of  us,  and  if  we  could  imagine 
ourselves  lifted  out  of  it  into  space,  our  heads  would 
throb,  and  our  eyes  would  burst  out,  and  we  should  be 
as  helpless  as  a  deep-sea  fish  brought  up  to  the  surface. 

As  for  light,  they  have  strange  methods  down  there  in  the 
black  depths.  A  great  many  of  the  deep-sea  inhabitants 
carry  their  own  lights,  for  they  are  more  or  less  luminous, 
shining  by  internal  light  as  glow-worms  and  fire-flies  do. 
One  extraordinary  fish  has  a  row  of  shiny  spots  stretching 
from  his  head  to  his  tail,  and  when  he  is  swimming  about 
he  must  look  like  a  liner  with  a  lighted  row  of  ship's 
ports  stretching  along  his  side.  Even  lobsters  and  crabs 
shine  luminously,  and  what  use  it  is  to  them  when  they 
are  frequently  blind  it  is  hard  to  conjecture ;  it  must  have 
something  to  do  with  catching  prey,  who  are  perhaps  not 
blind  and  may  be  attracted  by  the  lights.  There  is  at 
least  one  fish  who  hangs  out  what  is  like  a  red  lantern, 
only  it  is  the  tip  of  his  fin,  and  by  this  means  he  draws 
to  himself  small  creatures  who  swim  right  into  his  capacious 
mouth  ;  thus  his  dinner  comes  to  him  without  his  having  to 
search  for  it  ! 

I  want  to  go  to  the  bows,  for  it  never  seems  to  me  I  am 
in  a  ship  until  I  can  get  to  a  place  wliere  there  is  nothing  to 
shut  one  in.  These  modern  liners  are  horribly  shut  in,  one 
miglit  as  well  be  in  a  drawing-room  most  of  the  time. 
Here  we  are  at  last,  and  it  is  good  to  draw  a  deej)  breath, 
feeling  the  huge  dome  of  the  sky  above  and  tlie  wide  rim 
of  the  horizon  around  with  notliing  to  cut  them  off.     Look 


172   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 


A   DOLPHIN. 


down  where  the  ship  cleaves  the  sea  with  her  bows  cleanly 
and  beautifully  like  a  living  thing.  Hullo  !  there  is  a 
dolphin  !  We  are  in  luck !  Can  you  see  him  dancing 
round  us  and  plunging  in  under  water  and  coming  up  again, 
much  as  a  dog  does  on  land  when  he  goes  out  for  a  walk  with 
his  master  ?  There  is  another,  and  another  !  What  they 
call  a  shoal.  They  go  fast  enough  ;  I  expect  we  are 
making  about  fifteen  or  sixteen  knots,  or  miles,  an  hour, 
which  is  good  going,  and  yet  these  little  chaps  swim  round 
and  round,  cutting  across  ahead  of  us,  diving  under  us  and 
coming  up  again  all  the  time ;  to  them  it  is  mere  child's 
play,  and  they  really  are  playing  ;  they  are  full  of  fun,  and 
there  is  no  earthly  reason  why  they  should  behave  like  that 
except  for  amusement ! 

There  goes  the  bugle  for  lunch. 

Seems  early,  you  say  ?  As  if  we  had  only  just  finished 
breakfast  ?  Yes.  Look  at  your  watch.  It  is  hopelessly 
wrong,  of  course ;  so  is  mine  and  everyone  else's.  We  are 
going  just  about  due  east  now,  so  we  are  meeting  the  sun 
half-way,  so  to  speak.  That  is  what  makes  the  time  differ- 
ent. You  know  that  when  the  sun  is  at  the  highest  point 
overhead  at  any  place  then  it  is  midday,  and  as  the  earth 
spins  round  from  west  to  east  a  constant  succession  of 
places  come  beneath  him  in  turn,  each  getting  their  midday 
a  little  later  than  the  one  before.  In  the  British  Isles  there 
is  really  very  little  difference  between  the  hours  when  the 
eastern  and  western  coasts  meet  the  sun.    Take  Yarmouth, 


J 


THE  DEPTHS  OF  THE  OCEAN  175 

say,  and  Land's  End ;  there  is  perhaps  something  Hke  half 
an  hour  between  them,  but  as  it  would  be  awkward  for 
railway  work  and  business  if  every  place  had  a  little 
different  time,  so,  for  convenience'  sake,  one  "standard" 
time  is  adopted  in  England,  Scotland,  and  now  even  in 
some  of  the  nearest  continental  countries ;  this  is  the 
hour  when  the  sun  is  highest  above  Greenwich,  where  is 
our  greatest  observatory.  And  this  is  called  midday,  even 
though  as  a  matter  of  fact  the  real  midday  at  different 
places  may  be  earlier  or  later. 

As  we  journey  east  across  the  world,  however,  we  are  con- 
stantly going  forward  to  meet  the  sun.  We  are  not  only 
on  the  earth,  which  is  turning  round  all  the  time,  but  we  are 
going  ahead  ourselves  as  well,  and  out-running  the  earth, 
and  so  we  arrive  at  noon  sooner  and  sooner  each  day.  Our 
watches  of  course  take  no  heed  of  real  time  as  judged  by 
the  sun,  they  are  just  mechanical  and  tick  away  their  sixty 
minutes  to  each  hour  whether  the  sun  is  overhead  or  not. 
At  this  moment  we  are  about  four  hours  ahead  of  our 
friends  in  England.  It  is  one  o'clock  here,  but  they  will 
only  be  having  breakfast !  When  we  live  always  in  one 
place  it  is  easy  to  forget  that  we  are  on  a  ball  spinning 
round  in  space,  but  this  brings  it  home  to  us  and  makes  us 
realise  our  absurd  position  in  the  universe.  Well,  let  us 
get  our  lunch.  There  is  one  thing  on  board,  everybody  is 
always  ready  to  eat  an  amazing  amount  after  they  have  got 
over  sea-sickness,  and  the  number  of  meals  we  manage  to 
consume  here  would  surprise  us  at  home  ! 

As  the  evening  closes  in,  the  day  undergoes  a  cluinge  ; 
there  is  a  thick  bank  of  black-looking  cloud  in  the  west,  and 
just  as  the  sun  goes  down  this  breaks  up  into  wild  streamers 
and  shows  deep  ragged  gulfs  of  livid  light  between  ;  there  are 
glimpses  of  green  and  tawny-red  and  angry  orange  flashing 
through,  and  then  the  veil  of  cloud  blots  out  tiic  light.  Yet 
it  is  still,  there  doesn't  seem  to  be  a  ripple  of  wind,  and  the 


174   ROUND  THE  WONDEKFUL  WORLD 

sea  has  a  curious  oily  calm  upon  it.  Would  you  like  to 
come  along  to  the  bows  after  dinner  ?  Don't,  if  you  don't 
want  to.  It  is  more  difficult  to  get  there  than  we  expected, 
for  though  it  looks  so  calm  there  is  a  big  swell,  and  we  are 
rising  and  falling  considerably  on  the  smooth  -  backed 
hillocks  of  water.  Creep  under  these  ropes  and  over  this 
barricade.  Then  we  are  free  from  all  the  entanglements. 
There  are  no  dolphins  now,  but  there  is  a  strange  light 
dancing  away  like  fire  from  the  cutting  bow ;  it  comes  in 
streaks  and  flashes,  one  moment  it  seems  as  if  it  must  be 
only  a  reflection  in  the  cut  water,  and  the  next  one  could 
swear  there  was  a  real  flash. 

That  is  phosphorescence,  which  is  very  common  in 
tropical  seas,  sometimes  the  whole  sea  is  alight  with  it. 
Look  at  that  !  It  is  a  vivid  light  like  a  wave  of  green  fire, 
most  beautiful !  It  is  only,  however,  where  the  ship  strikes 
the  water  that  we  see  it  to-night.  But  sometimes,  though 
not  often  at  this  season  of  the  year,  the  whole  ocean  seems 
to  be  alight  with  it ;  it  is  the  effect  of  innumerable  millions 
of  tiny  sea-creatures  floating  on  the  surface,  though  exactly 
why  they  do  it  at  one  time  more  than  another  is  yet  un- 
known. The  curious  thing  is  that  there  are  so  many 
different  kinds  of  phosphorescence  ;  there  is  the  bright 
fiery  kind  like  this  we  are  seeing  now  in  flashes,  and  there 
is  a  dull  luminous  kind  which  sailors  call  a  "  white  sea." 
Then  the  whole  sea  appears  as  white  as  milk,  or,  as  someone 
who  has  seen  it  describes  it,  as  if  it  were  changed  to  ice 
covered  with  a  coating  of  snow.  This  was  on  a  dark  night 
before  the  moon  had  risen,  but  when  she  did  get  up  it  all 
disappeared  and  the  sea  looked  much  as  usual,  glittering 
only  where  the  beams  struck  it,  except  for  odd  patches  of 
shiny  light  here  and  there,  and  oddly  enough  exactly  the 
same  thing  happened  the  following  night.  I'm  afraid  we 
shan't  be  lucky  enough  to  see  that. 

Is  the  motion  making  you  uncomfortable  ?     No  ?     I'm 


THE  DEPTHS  OF  THE  OCEAN  175 

glad  of  that ;  you're  a  first-rate  sailor.  Let  us  go  back 
to  that  jolly  alcove  at  the  end  of  the  smoking-room  looking 
aft,  where  we  can  see  the  great  green-black  waves  rising 
suddenly  behind  us. 

Yes,  this  is  distinctly  comfortable  and  quite  interesting. 
It  seems  as  if  every  wave  rose  in  a  great  hill  suddenly  just 
after  we  had  passed  the  spot  !  We  must  have  come  over 
it,  but  sitting  like  this  we  didn't  feel  it,  we  are  riding  so 
smoothly. 

If  we  look  out  ahead  we  shall  see  the  same  sort  of  thing 
happening ;  we  approach  a  black  hillock  of  water,  and  just 
as  we  get  to  it  it  rolls  down  and  disappears  under  us.  The 
ship  is  so  large  that  though  she  climbs  those  hills,  we  get 
the  impression  that  the  hills  straighten  underneath  her. 
You  must  have  noticed  something  of  the  same  kind  in  riding 
a  bicycle ;  if  you  are  running  down  one  hill  and  see  another 
rising  in  front,  the  other  one  looks  terrifically  steep,  but  as 
you  get  on  to  it,  it  flattens  out  in  an  inexplicable  way  ;  it 
is  the  change  in  our  own  position  that  accounts  for  the 
phenomenon. 

It  is  very  close  to-night  and  there  is  an  uneasy  feeling 
in  the  air  ;  the  captain  did  not  appear  at  dinner.  It  is  a 
good  thing  that  they  put  off  that  fancy-dress  ball  which 
was  to  have  been  held  this  evening,  for  there  could  not  have 
been  much  dancing.  Your  costume  will  come  in  useful 
another  time.  I  want  to  see  you  sometime  as  a  little 
Egyptian  with  a  skull-cap  and  a  garment  like  a  flannel 
night-shirt !     But  we  shall  have  another  chance. 

"  Hope  we're  not  in  for  a  cyclone,"  says  one  of  the 
men,  appearing  out  of  the  smoking-room  with  a  pipe  in 
his  mouth. 

"  Very  unusual  at  this  time  of  year  in  the  North-East 
monsoon,"  replies  another  as  they  disappear. 

At  that  moment  forked  lightning  plays  across  the 
sky  in  a  great  ragged   streak,   and   inunediately  there  is 


176   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

another  display  as  if   answering  it,  but  we  can  hear  no 
thunder. 

TOiat  is  the  North-East  monsoon  ?  It  sounds  rather  like 
some  kind  of  animal,  but  it  is  only  the  name  given  to  a 
certain  wind  that  blows  always  at  one  season  of  the  year. 

Across  broad  spaces  of  the  ocean  there  are  always 
steady  winds  to  be  counted  on,  such  as  the  trade-winds, 
which  are  caused  by  the  air  at  the  Equator  getting  hot  and 
rising,  and  being  replaced  by  the  cold  air  from  the  Poles 
which  rushes  in ;  besides  this  there  are  other  winds  which 
blow  half  the  year,  called  monsoons,  these  are  due  to  very 
much  the  same  causes.  The  North-East  monsoon  comes  in 
the  northern  winter;  the  air  from  the  North  Pole  coming  down 
slowly  is  met  by  the  earth  as  she  turns,  and  as  she  rushes 
into  it  she  makes  it  a  north-eastern  wind  ;  this,  coming 
over  the  land  from  the  north,  is  a  dry  wind,  while  the  other 
one,  the  South-Western  monsoon,  coming  from  the  south 
over  the  ocean  in  the  other  half  of  the  year,  is  a  wet  wind 
and  brings  the  rain  which  is  such  a  boon  to  India. 

The  lightning  is  continually  playing,  and  I  shouldn't  be 
surprised  if  we  are  on  the  edge  of  a  cyclone,  but  with  a  big 
ship  like  this,  and  a  captain  who  knows  his  business,  there  is 
nothing  to  be  afraid  of.     These  cyclones,  which  are  called 
typhoons   in   the    China    seas,    are   curious    storms    which 
twist  round  and  round  in  a  circle,  all  the  time  progressing 
onward  too,  and  the  danger  is  in  getting  into  the  middle  of 
one,  for  there,  as  you  may  imagine,  the  wind  comes  from  all 
quarters  at  once,  and  the  waves  are  piled  up  on  all  sides 
like  huge  overhanging  pyramids.     I've  never  been  in  the 
middle  of  one,  I'm  thankful  to  say,  but  those  who  have,  and 
have  escaped  with  their  lives,  say  that  the  ship  is  buffeted 
as  if  by  mighty  billows  which  smack  down  upon  her  from  all 
directions.     Sometimes  there  is  seen  a  space  of  blue  sky, 
and  there  is  a  great  calm,  but  this  to  the  commander  is  the 
most  ominous  sign  of  all,  for  he  knows  he  must  be  in  the 


THE  DEPTHS  OF  THE  OCEAN  177 

centre  funnel  of  the  storm,  so  to  speak,  and  that  it  will  be 
worse  for  him  directly  ! 

We  had  better  go  to  bed,  there's  nothing  else  to  do. 

Are  you  awake  ?  Yes,  I  thought  even  you  could  hardly 
sleep  through  that  !  What  a  smack  !  It  sounds  as  if  the 
heavens  had  opened  and  a  water-spout  had  descended  on 
deck  !  What  a  roar  !  Can  you  hear  me  ?  All  right,  come 
in  here  beside  me  if  you  like,  but  there's  precious  little  room. 
It  seems  as  if  every  noise  on  the  ocean  had  been  let  loose. 
The  rain  must  be  simply  one  great  volume  of  water,  and  the 

thunder Even  through  our  port-hole  the  cabin  is  as  light 

as  day  with  the  lightning ;  it  is  just  two  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing. The  thunder  seems  to  come  absolutely  instantaneously 
with  the  hghtning ;  we  must  be  right  in  it !  I  never  heard 
such  crashes.  One  minute  our  heads  are  down  below  our 
feet  and  the  next  we  are  almost  standing  on  end.  Hang 
on  !  We  shall  probably  get  through  all  right,  this  noise 
doesn't  mean  anything  very  bad.  But  I  thank  my  stars 
I'm  not  an  officer  on  the  bridge.  How  they  ever  manage  to 
keep  on  their  feet  I  don't  know,  much  less  how  they  give 
directions.  One  man  told  me  that  he  was  once  in  such  a 
sea  that  when  he  was  pitched  off  his  feet  into  one  end  of 
the  bridge  he  hadn't  time  to  recover  himself  before  the 
same  pitch  came  again  and  sent  him  down  just  as  he  was 
trying  to  get  up  !  At  any  time  the  life  at  sea  is  hard,  but 
dou])ly  so  in  a  storm  like  this  !  Hour  after  hour  it  goes 
on.  I  don't  suppose  anyone  has  slept  through  this,  and 
many  must  be  feeling  very  ill.  We  are  lucky  to  be  spared 
that ! 

Next  morning,  though  the  lightning  had  ceased,  the  wind 

is  terrific,  it  goes  screeching  past,  and  the  rain  comes  down 

in  buckets  ;   with  great  difficulty  we  get  into  our  clothes  and 

scramble  up  to  the  smoking-room.     It  is  a  miserable  day 

and  very  few  of  the  passengers  appear,  but  by  the  afternoon 

the  worst  is  over,  and  we  can  get  out  into  our  alcove.     We 
12 


178   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

are  still  labouring  heavily  in  a  blue-black  sea,  and  can  see  a 
very  little  way  as  we  are  surrounded  by  mountains  of  water. 
Hurrah  !  There  is  a  cleft  over  in  the  east,  which  means  the 
storm  is  breaking.  Our  captain  knows  the  law  of  cyclones 
and  has  judged  rightly  which  way  to  turn  to  get  out  of  the 
track  of  the  storm.  We  have  passed  through  a  corner  of 
it,  and  though  we  have  got  out  of  our  course,  that  won't 
mean  much  delay.  Anyway,  you've  had  an  experience  very 
few  people  have  had,  for  there  are  few  indeed  of  all  the 
thousands  who  go  to  India  who  have  ever  been  in  the  tail  of 
a  cyclone  !  It  is  most  unusual,  but  in  these  seas  one  never 
knows  what  will  happen. 


\'f(^  f 


I    ..-u 


A   NATIVE   VILLAGE. 


CHAPTER    XV 


A    TROPICAL   THUNDERSTORM 


We  have  reallv  arrived  in  the  East  !  We  are  in  Colombo, 
the  capital  town  of  Ceylon,  the  great  island  which  lies 
swung  like  a  pendant  from  the  southernmost  point  of 
India.  We  are  sitting  in  the  shady  verandah  of  one  of  the 
largest  hotels,  the  Grand  Oriental,  called  G.O.H.  for  short, 
and  as  we  sip  lemon-squash  we  look  out  over  a  scene  so 
full  of  interest  that  it  is  difficult  to  take  it  all  in.  This  is 
quite  different  from  Port  Said.  There  it  was  bright  and 
clear,  but  there  was  not  the  wonderful  smell  and  sense 
of  being  tlie  East  that  we  have  here.  The  air  is  full  of 
scent,  a  kind  of  spicy  smell  mingled  with  a  touch  of  wood- 
smoke,  and  there  is  a  balminess  in  it  that  we  have  never 
felt  till  now.  The  water  in  the  harbour  is  a  glorious 
emerald  green,  and  small  boys,  almost  naked,  play  about 
on  roughly  shaped  log  canoes  called  catamarans.  They 
used  to  dive  for  pennies,  but  the  sharks  lo})pcd  off  a  leg 
liere  and  an  arm  there  and  swallowed  one  up  whole  now 


179 


i8o   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

and  again,  and  so  the  Government  forbade  it.  The  dark 
wooden  wharf  forms  a  frame  for  gay  figures  in  pure  pinks 
and  greens  and  yellows,  and  on  the  roads  there  run  past 
continually  the  funniest  sturdy  little  men  with  their 
loin-cloths  tucked  up,  pulling  light-looking  chairs  on  high 
wheels  with  people  in  them.  These  chairs  are  called 
rickshaws  and  are  the  chief  way  of  getting  about.  Very 
comfortable  they  are  too,  and  quite  cheap ;  we  will  go  in 
them  presently.  The  men  who  pull  them  have  funny 
chignons  of  frizzy  black  hair  sticking  out  under  their 
little  red  caps,  and  it  would  be  easy  to  mistake  them  for 
women.  That  attendant  from  the  hotel  at  your  elbow  is 
asking  you  if  you'll  take  another  lemon-squash  ;  he  is 
quite  a  different  sort  of  man  from  the  runners,  isn't  he  ? 
Much  taller  and  with  a  mild  expression ;  his  straight  hair 
is  adorned  by  a  curved  tortoise-shell  comb  of  considerable 
size ;  he  wears  it  round  the  back  of  his  head,  and  how  he 
makes  it  stay  on  among  his  very  scanty  locks  is  a  miracle. 
His  flowing  white  garments  are  immaculately  clean,  and 
he  doesn't  look  as  if  he  could  kill  a  mosquito  !  He  is  a 
Cingalee,  and  the  little  men  who  run  in  the  rickshaws  are 
Tamils ;  these  races  live  side  by  side  in  Ceylon,  though 
there  are  many  more  Cingalese  than  Tamils.  They  are 
quite  distinct,  though  they  both  originally  came  over  from 
India,  and  in  the  old  days  when  the  Cingalese  gave  a  line 
of  kings  to  the  island  they  were  always  fighting  the 
Tamils ;  to-day  both  live  together  peacefully  under 
British  rule. 

This  place  is  a  positive  bazaar  !  There  is  a  deep, 
crafty  old  merchant  sitting  like  a  spider  over  his  pile  of 
sheeny  silks  in  the  corner — he  hopes  to  get  good  prices 
from  the  unwary  tourist ;  there  is  another  with  a  stall  of 
beautiful  brass  and  copper  hand-worked  things,  and  others 
with  jewellery  and  carved  ivory.  But  more  interesting 
than  any  is  the   snake-charmer,  who  has  just   squatted 


A  TROPICAL  THUNDERSTORM 


i8i 


down  in  front  of  us,  prepared  to  give  us  an  entertain- 
ment. 

That  is  a  cobra  he  takes  out ;  you  know  it  by  its 
large,  flat  head.  It  seems  sleepy  and  stupid,  but  its  bite 
is  deadly.  It  is  possible,  of  course,  that  he  has  abstracted 
the  poison-fangs  which  make  its  bite  fatal,  but  even  with- 
out them  I  shouldn't  care  to  handle  it.  It  is  a  huge 
beast,  seven  or  eight  feet  long  I  should 
guess.  See  how  he  teases  it ;  he  is 
making  it  rise  up  on  its  coils  and  swing 
this  way  and  that,  darting  its  forked 
tongue  out  at  him,  and  yet  all  the  time  it 
fears  him.  He  has  a  marvellous  power 
over  it ;  its  narrow,  wicked  light  eyes  are 
fixed  on  his  face ;  it  never  looks  away. 
Now  he  begins  to  play  to  it  on  a  little 
flute ;  it  is  dancing,  swaying  its  lean 
unlovely  body  to  and  fro  and  up  and 
dowTi  in  time  with  the  tune.  He  puts 
down  his  pipe  and  makes  a  motion  to  it 
as  if  he  were  mesmerising  it,  passing  his 
hands  this  way  and  that,  until  it  comes 
to  him  and  puts  its  flat  head  on  his 
shoulder,  nozzling  into  his  neck.  It 
makes  one  shudder  to  see  it  !  It  coils 
round  his  body  again  and  again ;  he  is 
enveloped  in  the  coils.  I  should  not 
care  for  that  profession  !  It  is  not  every 
man  that  can  do  it,  only  some  of  the  natives  have  a 
gift  for  it,  and  they  really  have  a  power  over  snakes,  even 
those  in  a  wild  state,  for  they  make  them  come  forth  out 
of  holes  when  called  and  remain  passive  at  their  feet.  This 
man  deserves  a  good  tip.  Bakshish  they  call  it  here  too ; 
that  word  accompanies  you  round  the  world  ! 

I  think  we'll  go  for  a  jaunt,  if  you're  ready,  as  the  light 


A   CINGALEE  WAITER. 


i82   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

falls  quickly  here.  There  is  no  difficulty  in  getting  two 
rickshaws,  and  how  they  spin  along.  They  say  the  men 
who  drag  them  don't  live  many  years,  as  the  constant 
running  wears  them  out,  but  they  look  healthy  enough 
and  show  no  more  exhaustion  after  running  than  a  horse 
does  after  trotting.  Each  one  has  twisted  up  his  dhoti, 
as  the  white  skirts  they  wear  are  called,  showing  his  bare 
brown  legs  ;  the  upper  garment  is  simply  a  European 
cotton  vest.  We  spin  along  the  bright  red  road  by  the 
sea,  seeing  the  long  lines  of  foam  breaking  gently  on  the 
beach,  and  then  turn  into  shady  roads  where  trees  with 
brilliant  yellow  leaves  light  the  wayside.  Then  we  pass 
through  a  native  village  with  huts  of  thatch,  while  plan- 
tains, which  at  home  we  call  bananas,  grow  on  broad- 
leaved  plants  by  each  door.  There  is  dust  enough  here, 
and  mangy-looking  pariah  dogs,  and  cocks  and  hens,  and 
multitudes  of  bright  beady-eyed  children  with  hardly 
any  clothing  on.  There  is  plenty  of  foliage  and  greenery 
and  a  freshness  and  richness  of  colouring  that  is  much 
better  than  the  grey  leafless  harshness  of  an  Egyptian 
village,  for  this  land  gets  plenty  of  rain.  Everyone  seems 
good-humoured  and  happy,  and  the  children  look  fat 
enough  ;  some  of  them  are  very  black,  with  woolly  heads, 
of  a  different  type  from  the  others.  These  are  the  chil- 
dren of  a  race  called  Moormen. 

When  we  get  down  near  the  hotel  I  want  you  to  come 
into  this  jeweller's  shop  in  the  arcade  ;  you'll  see  a  strange 
sight.  A  crowd  of  tourists  are  sitting  round  a  table  which  is 
covered  with  little  heaps  of  sliining  stones,  unset  and  piled 
on  squares  of  white  paper;  some  are  brilliant  blue,  others 
flashing  crimson,  others  sombre  in  hue,  but  showing  a  glitter 
of  living  light  whichever  way  you  turn  them.  The  odd  thing 
is  that  the  visitors  are  handling  them  and  turning  them 
over,  and  examining  them  quite  freely,  while  the  owner, 
a  wizened  old  man  in  horn  spectacles,  hardly  watches ! 


A  TROPICAL  THUNDERSTORM  183 

"  They're  not  real  ?  " 

Indeed  they  are  !  Rubies,  star-sapphires,  opals,  and 
many  another  precious  stone.  That  native  owner  has  a 
queer  faith  in  the  honesty  of  his  customers  !  Long  may 
it  last  ! 

We  are  only  in  Colombo  for  one  night,  and  to-morrow 
we  are  going  up-country  to  stay  with  a  friend  of  mine, 
a  tea-planter. 

xA-S  we  are  undressing  you  give  a  sudden  start,  "  TOiat's 
that  ?  "  Only  a  lizard  scuttling  over  the  dark- washed 
bedroom  wall,  first  cousin  to  the  chameleon  vou  saw  at 
Abu  Simbel.  He  is  quite  harmless  and  lives  on  flies.  He 
runs  like  a  little  shadow  across  the  w^all  and  sometimes  he 
loses  liis  balance  and  comes  down  thump  on  the  floor, 
or  breaks  liis  fall  on  the  mosquito  curtains.  He  is  one  of 
the  signs  that  we  really  are  in  the  East ;  here  is  another. 
Listen  for  a  moment  at  the  window.  There  is  a  distant 
barking  of  dogs,  a  far-away  crow  from  a  defiant  cock,  a 
strange  murmurous  chant  of  men,  weird  cries  intermingled, 
and  now  and  then  the  deep  beat  of  a  parchment  drum. 
The  people  of  the  land  are  all  awake  and  stirring  though  it 
is  late — the  East  never  really  sleeps  as  profoundly  as  does 
the  West ;  there  is  a  restlessness  in  the  blood  that  stirs 
too  mucli,  and  a  pulsating  warmtli  in  the  air  that  does  not 
allow  of  deep  slumber  ;  it  is  tlie  restlessness  of  the  jungle 
translated  into  town  life. 

Next  day  at  the  station  we  find  that  the  porters, 
though  dressed  in  neat  blue  suits,  have  pronounced  chig- 
nons of  the  same  type  as  their  brothers  who  draw  the 
rickshaws,  and  in  spite  of  their  European-cut  coats  and 
trousers  tliey  run  about  with  bare  feet !  We  might  make 
a  museum  of  the  strange  porters  we  see  on  our  wanderings, 
collecting  a  specimen  from  each  covmtry  ! 

The  train  is  comfortable  enough  and  there  is  a  luncheon- 
car,  so  we  shan't  starve  this  time ;  besides,  the  journey  to 


1 84   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

Kandy  is  only  a  few  hours.  There  I  hope  we  shall  be  met, 
as  I  haven't  the  least  idea  whereabouts  my  friend,  Mr. 
Hunter's,  tea-plantation  is ;  however,  I  sent  him  a  wire 
yesterday  directly  we  arrived  to  say  we  would  come  by 
this  train,  so  he  is  sure  to  be  there. 

The  line  for  the  greater  part  of  the  way  is  laid  on  a 
terrace  or  shelf  cut  out  of  a  hillside,  and  it  winds  along 
climbing  ever  up  with  a  towering  wall  on  one  side  and  a 
precipice  on  the  other.  The  little  stations  have  hardly 
room  to  wedge  in,  but  they  are  very  gay  with  flowers — 
indeed  the  whole  line  is,  for  great  yellow  daisies  and  the 
terra-cotta  blossoms  of  a  pretty  creeper  called  lantana 
climb  everywhere.  As  we  get  higher  and  higher  we  can 
look  down  and  see  the  country  spread  out  before  us  like 
a  map ;  it  is  cut  up  into  neat  little  fields  and  would  be  like 
a  draught-board  except  that  the  fields  are  often  on  different 
levels  one  above  the  other,  made  on  land  cut  out  from  the 
hillsides.  These  people  grow  rice,  which  is  to  them  what 
maize  is  to  the  Egyptian.  In  the  fields,  before  it  has  been 
threshed,  it  is  known  as  paddy.  They  live  on  rice  and 
very  little  else,  and  seem  to  thrive  on  it.  Rice  pudding 
if  repeated  every  day  for  a  month  at  both  breakfast  and 
dinner  would  grow  monotonous,  but  the  man  of  the  East 
does  not  find  it  so.  His  rice  is  not  cooked  with  milk  but 
with  water,  and  is  eaten  with  a  little  curry  made  of  fish  or 
vegetables  to  give  it  flavour. 

Higher  yet,  and  soon  we  see  the  hills  laid  out  with  rows 
of  a  tiny  dark-green  bush,  planted  as  neatly  as  rows  of 
turnips  ;  this  is  the  tea  for  which  Ceylon  is  famous,  and  we 
shall  get  a  nearer  look  at  it  presently.  That  and  rubber 
are  the  staple  crops  that  Englishmen  come  out  here  to 
raise,  but  they  also  grow  coffee  and  other  things  too. 

When  we  arrive  at  Kandy  there  is  no  sign  of  anything 
to  meet  us  and  no  white  man  on  the  platform,  so  I  make 
inquiries  of  the  stationmaster,  who  is  a  Eurasian,  which 


A  TROPICAL  THUNDERSTORM 


185 


DOWN   IN   THE  PADDYFIELDS. 


means  that  he  has  some  wliite  blood  in  his  veins.  He 
knows  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Hunter  perfectly  well,  he  says,  though 
he  has  not  seen  them  for  a  day  or  two.  If,  as  I  say,  I 
wired,  tliey  are  certain  to  send  in  a  trap  to  meet  us ;  but  it 
may  have  been  delayed  or  still  be  in  the  town.  If  we 
care  to  go  up  and  look  round,  and  come  back  again,  he 
will  meantime  make  inquiries.  With  many  thanks  we 
take  his  advice.  The  town  is  quite  near  and  we  find  tlie 
main  part  of  it  built  around  a  pretty  little  lake  near 
which  is  the  famous  Temple  of  the  Tooth.  Tliis  is  a 
massive  building  visited  by  thousands  of  pilgrims,  because 
it  enslirines  a  relic  of  great  sanctity,  nothing  less  than  the 
tooth  of  Buddha  !     Wliat  Mohammed  is  to  the  Moham- 


i86   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

medans  so  Buddha  is  to  the  Buddhists,  among  whom  the 
greater  part  of  the  people  of  Ceylon  may  be  counted. 
But  Buddha  is  more  than  a  prophet ;  his  followers  say  that 
he  has  appeared  on  earth  many  times,  and  that  the  last 
time  he  came  in  the  form  of  an  Indian  prince  who,  instead 
of  living  in  careless  luxury,  left  his  home  and  wandered 
forth  among  the  people  to  discover  the  meaning  of  life. 
When  he  found  it,  after  deep  meditation,  he  left  certain 
precepts  and  rules  to  his  followers.  Some  of  them  are 
very  good,  resembling  our  own  Commandments :  "  Thou 
Shalt  not  kill,"  "  Thou  shalt  not  lie,"  "  Thou  shalt  not 
steal,"  "  Thou  shalt  not  drink  intoxicating  liquor."  But, 
unlike  the  Mohammedans,  the  Buddhists  do  not  believe 
in  God.  Their  idea  of  blissful  happiness  at  the  last  is 
to  melt  away  into  a  kind  of  nothingness  of  perfect  peace, 
with  no  desires,  no  worries,  and  no  cares. 

All  over  the  East  you  find  temples  which  are  supposed 
to  contain  some  part  of  Buddha's  person,  hairs,  teeth, 
even  a  collar-bone  !  Of  course  it  is  impossible  that  these 
things  should  be  genuine,  and  in  any  case,  if  they  were, 
there  is  nothing  sacred  about  them.  The  worshippers 
always  say  they  do  not  look  upon  Buddha  as  a  god,  but 
only  a  great  spiritual  teacher,  yet  the  poor  and  ignorant 
come  and  worship  and  bow  down  in  these  temples,  and 
there  is  no  doubt  that  to  them  the  image  itself  stands  for 
a  god.  The  tooth  which  is  here  is  kept  in  many  caskets, 
one  within  the  other,  and  it  is  never  shown  except  on  very 
great  occasions.  Mr.  Hunter  saw  it  once,  and  says  it  is 
not  a  human  tooth  at  all,  but  a  great  thing  like  a  boar's 
tusk  or  possibly  an  elephant's  tooth.  He  couldn't  get 
a  good  look  at  it,  anyway  he  saw  enough  to  be  quite  sure 
that  it  is  not  human  at  all,  and  the  same  may  be  said 
without  doubt  of  all  similar  relics. 

What    a    lovely    scene  !     The    graceful    dark-skinned 
crowd   in   their    softly    flowing   garments    of   the   purest 


A  TROPICAL  THUNDERSTORM  187 

pinks  you  ever  saw,  with  sulphur  yellow  and  rich  red 
draperies  thrown  over  them,  are  idling  by  the  hoary 
grey  steps  of  the  temple  and  dropping  bits  of  bread  into 
the  ponds  in  front.  They  are  feeding  the  tortoises,  fat 
lazy  beasts  who  will  hardly  move  to  snap  at  the  fragments 
unless  they  fall  before  their  very  noses.  These  beasts 
are  supposed  to  be  sacred  too,  and  so  they  have  an  un- 
commonly good  time  of  it.  This  massive  building,  temple 
and  palace  in  one,  was  inhabited  by  the  old  hne  of  native 
kings  who  made  Kandy  their  capital. 

We  must  get  back  to  the  station  or  we  may  miss 
Mr.  Hunter.  When  we  arrive  there  we  find  there  is  no 
sign  of  him,  whereat  the  attentive  stationmaster  is  greatly 
distressed.  He  advises  us  to  hire  a  trap  and  drive  to 
some  place  with  an  unpronounceable  name,  where  Mr. 
Hunter  is  sure  to  meet  us  ;  visitors  often  do  that,  he  says. 
I  try  to  discover  why  we  can't  drive  all  the  way,  but  his 
answers  are  not  enlightening;  "big  hill,"  he  replies,  and 
I  don't  see  why  the  trap  can't  go  up  a  hill  !  However, 
we  shall  see.  He  engages  a  trap  for  us,  anyway,  with 
a  scarecrow  horse  and  a  friendly  looking  driver  whose 
hairy  legs  protrude  from  wrappings  of  cinnamon-coloured 
cloth — once  white,  I  suppose — and  we  are  off.  The  roads 
at  first  are  very  good,  and  there  is  none  of  the  dust  we 
suffered  from  so  much  in  Egypt,  for  Ceylon  is  a  moist 
land.  In  fact,  it  looks  rather  like  rain  now,  with  heavy 
clouds  gathering  up. 

After  going  at  a  slow  trot  for  a  considerable  distance 
the  driver  pulls  up,  and  pointing  with  his  whip  to  a  tree- 
covered  mountain  says  something  unintelligible,  which 
turns  out  to  be  "  'Unter  Tuan,"  after  he  has  repeated 
it  about  six  times.  This  means  Mr.  Hunter,  "  Tuan  " 
being  the  same  term  of  respect  here  that  "  Sahil) "  is  in 
India. 

There  is  no  sign  of  a  house  or  any  living  being ;  the 


1 88   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

place  is  absolutely  deserted.  In  vain  I  sign  to  the  man 
to  go  ahead;  he  shakes  his  head  and  remains  seated  on 
his  box  like  an  image  of  despair.  I  get  out  and  see  that 
the  road  runs  away  to  nothing  in  the  bushes  and  scrub 
in  front,  it  just  ends  suddenly  for  no  apparent  reason, 
and  while  I  am  looking  I  hear  a  slight  crackling  in  the 
bushes,  and  a  tall,  thin,  very  dirty-looking  youth  appears 
and  salaams  respectfully.  The  driver  immediately  begins 
to  converse  with  him,  whereupon  the  youth  takes  our  bag 
unceremoniously  out  of  the  carriage  and  putting  it  on  his 
head  beckons  to  us  to  follow  him.  There  is  nothing  else 
for  it,  so,  after  paying  the  driver,  we  do  so,  feeling  like 
two  infants  in  charge  of  this  fellow. 

I  try  the  lean  lad  in  English,  asking  him  if  he  knows 
Hunter  Tuan's  place,  but  he  swings  round,  looks  at  me 
gravely,  and  continues  his  graceful,  elastic  walk. 

It  is  pretty  warm,  and  the  path  is  narrow  and  lined 
by  thorn  bushes,  so  the  going  is  not  easy  ;  but  the  youth 
seems  to  float  on  ahead  with  mysterious  ease,  and  we  pant 
after  him  feeling  as  if  our  lives  depended  on  not  losing 
sight  of  him.  At  last  the  bushes  get  so  thick  that  we  have 
to  push  our  way  through,  and  we  suddenly  see  him  a 
good  distance  ahead,  half-way  across  a  broad  and  shallow 
river  which  bubbles  round  his  knees. 

''  Hi  !  "  we  shout  after  him.  "  Stop  !  "  And  he 
turns,  but  only  to  beckon  imperturbably  and  continue 
evenly  on  his  way.  It  is  evidently  the  custom  of  this 
country  to  walk  through  rivers  when  you  meet  them  ! 
Easy  enough  for  the  inhabitants,  who  are  not  encumbered 
with  shoes  and  stockings,  but  for  us.  .  .  . 

Down  we  go  and  are  soon  hard  after  him  with  our 
boots  slung  round  our  necks  and  our  stockings  stuffed 
into  them  ;  the  cool  water  splashing  round  our  legs  is 
rather  pleasant.  Lucky  it  is  not  deep.  We  have  to  stop 
and  re-clothe   on  the  other   side.     Here   our   coolie  has 


A  TROPICAL  THUNDERSTORM  189 

condescended  to  wait  for  us,  and  just  as  you  are  about 
to  sit  down  on  a  convenient  hillock  of  bare  brown  earth 
he  waves  you  away,  and  you  see  that  big  red  ants  with 
a  most  fierce  and  warlike  appearance  are  running  about 
it ;  it  is  their  home  and  fortress  !  Once  more  booted  we 
struggle  on,  uphill  now,  on  a  stony  path,  and  very  stiff 
work  it  is.  When  we  tell  our  guide  to  stop  for  a  moment 
he  looks  at  us  condescendingly  and  stands  with  his 
burden  poised  on  his  head,  not  even  caring  to  put  it  dowTi 
as  he  waits  until  these  poor  creatures,  who  are  not  carrying 
anything  at  all,  regain  their  breath,  and  that  makes  us 
feel  so  inferior  we  don't  like  to  stop  often  !  The  clouds 
gather  and  blacken,  the  perspiration  is  running  down  my 
back,  and  I  am  as  wet  as  if  I  had  waded  through  the  river 
up  to  my  neck.  I  should  be  glad  to  see  the  house,  for 
we  have  been  scrambling  upwards  for  quite  an  hour  now. 
What  a  place  to  live  in  !  Fancy  having  to  come  down 
here  every  time  you  wanted  to  do  a  little  shopping  ! 

Another  hour  at  least  !  A  few  drops,  muttering 
thunder,  and  then,  quicker  than  one  can  say  it,  a  blinding, 
crashing  downpour.  Never  in  my  life  have  I  seen  rain 
like  this  until  that  night  at  sea  when  we  passed  through 
the  edge  of  the  cyclone,  and  now  twice  have  I  met  it  in 
a  week !  It  is  simply  a  waterspout.  A  brilliant  flash  of 
lightning  shows  us  the  youth  crouching  under  a  bank 
some  yards  ahead,  and  we  dive  into  the  nearest  place, 
following  his  example.  Luckily  the  bank  is  high  here 
and  there  is  a  kind  of  cave  beneath  a  mass  of  broad-leaved 
plants  ;  there  is  just  room  for  the  two  of  us  huddled  close 
together,  and  the  wall  of  water  sweeps  past  the  entrance 
like  a  curtain.  The  rain  makes  a  deafening  noise,  it 
literally  crashes  down ;  the  path  is  a  mountain  torrent ; 
if  we  had  stayed  there  we  should  have  been  swept  off  our 
feet ;  it  seems  as  if  the  whole  mountain-side  must  go. 
We  hang  on  to  each  other,  avoiding  the  trickles  as  best  we 


I90      ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

can.  Hullo !  this  plant  is  a  cardamom,  carrying  little 
seeds  rather  like  spicy  pepper ;  nibble  one,  it  may  keep 
off  the  effects  of  the  wetting  we  have  been  unable  to  avoid 
altogether.  How  cold  it  seems  to  have  grown  all  of  a 
sudden  !  Is  it  the  rain,  or  because  we  are  so  much  higher 
up  ?  I  suppose  really  it  is  the  latter,  because  I  remember 
now  that  the  planters  always  live  on  the  tops  of  hills  to 
get  the  fresh  air,  which  is  more  healthy  there  than  in  the 
stifling  valleys. 

It  is  a  long  time  before  the  storm  passes,  and  when 
at  last  it  dies  down  to  a  few  drops  and  we  emerge  and 
shake  ourselves,  all  trace  of  the  coolie  boy  has  vanished  ! 
Yes,  it  is  true  !  He  has  gone,  and  the  bag  too  !  Well, 
he  must  have  gone  upward  or  we  should  have  seen  him 
pass,  so  let  us  hope  he  is  honest  and  has  taken  the  bag 
to  the  house.  There  is  only  one  path,  so  we  can  do  nothing 
but  follow. 

On  we  climb  again,  and  presently  the  scene  changes ; 
we  have  got  into  the  tea-scrub,  and  wander  among  rows 
of  bushes  about  the  size  of  gooseberry  bushes,  receiving 
deluges  of  cold  water  against  our  legs.  The  path  zigzags 
this  way  and  that,  rising  each  time  so  that  we  can  look 
back  and  see  it  lying  below  us  in  fold  after  fold.  At 
last  !  There  is  an  opening  !  I  see  a  glimpse  of  green  lawn 
and  some  poinsettias  !  This  must  be  the  place  !  Yes, 
I  can  see  the  bungalow,  and  here  is  a  mackintosh-clad 
figure  hastening  down  the  path  to  greet  us. 

"  My  dear  fellow  !  However  did  you  get  here  ?  Why 
on  earth  didn't  you  let  us  know  ?  We'd  have  sent  to 
meet  you  !  " 

As  we  grasp  hands  I  explain  about  the  telegram. 
"  Oh,  then  I  shall  get  it  with  the  letters  to-morrow 
morning  !  "  he  says  lightly.  "  No  matter,  so  long  as  you 
are  here  and  safe.  I  was  afraid  you  had  got  lost  upon 
the  mountain-top,  and  was  setting  forth  to  seek  you." 


A  TROPICAL  THUNDERSTORM  191 

"  But  how  did  you  know  ?  " 

"  Your  coolie  arrived  with  the  bag  a  quarter  of  an  hour 
ago,  and  your  name  is  wTitten  on  the  label  very  large  and 
clear.  Dehghted  to  see  you  !  The  missus  is  romping 
round  getting  your  beds  aired  and  pinning  up  curtains 
in  your  honour  !  " 


RUANVELI   DAGOBA  AT   THE   "BURIED   CITY." 


CHAPTER    XVI 


A    SACRED    TREE 


Do  you  remember  that  just  about  this  time  last  week  we 
were  crouching  in  a  hole  in  a  muddy  bank  waiting  for  the 
thunderstorm  to  pass  on  ?  How  different  now,  though 
we  are  still  in  Ceylon  and,  as  crow  flies,  not  so  many  miles 
from  the  Hunters'  mountain-side.  It  is  a  gorgeous  tropical 
afternoon,  the  bits  of  sky  we  can  see  through  the  feathery- 
leaved  trees  are  of  the  deepest  blue,  and  we  are  resting^ 
because  it  seems  too  hot  to  move  a  limb.  In  front  of  us 
there  stretches  a  sheet  of  limpid  water  which  might  be  a 
lake  except  that  it  is  surrounded  by  a  raised  bund,  or  bank> 
artificially  made,  with  hewn  granite  slabs  as  steps  going 
down  at  one  end.  We  are  glad  of  the  shade  of  the  trees 
falling  across  the  short  turfy  grass,  and  we  are  seated  oa 


192 


A  SACRED  TREE  193 

some  broken  blocks  of  granite,  keeping  a  sharp  look  out 
for  snakes.  They  will  hardly  be  likely  to  trouble  us  here, 
but  in  that  jungly  bit  behind  it  wouldn't  be  at  all  safe  to 
rest  like  this.  Even  to  sit  on  the  short  grass  might  be 
unpleasant,  as  there  are  all  sorts  of  unknown  insects  here 
which  bite  and  sting  and  stab,  but  we  are  safely  raised  on 
stones  and  are  wearing  thick  boots.  Examine  that  slab 
of  granite  there  beside  you  ;  do  you  see  that  it  has  a  most 
wonderfully  carved  snake  upon  it — a  cobra  with  seven 
heads  ?  It  is  so  clear-cut  it  might  have  been  done  yester" 
day,  yet  it  is  part  of  the  ruins  of  a  mighty  city,  a  city  as 
large  as  London,  which  once  stretched  its  busy  streets  over 
this  quiet  glade.  The  cobra  was  a  sacred  beast  to  the 
Hindus,  and  a  seven-headed  one  was  peculiarly  so,  seven 
being  a  mystic  number. 

What  a  glorious  butterfly  !  Its  body  is  as  big  as  a  small 
bird,  and  its  great  velvety  wings  are  the  sharpest  black 
and  white.  No,  I  don't  for  a  moment  suppose  you'll 
catch  it,  so  it  is  no  use  getting  hot  !  I'm  glad  you  can't, 
for  we  have  no  proper  apparatus  here,  and  it  would  only 
be  a  crushed  mass  to  take  home.  Don't  go  headlong  into 
the  tank,  though,  in  your  frantic  efforts ;  it  might  be  awk- 
ward. No,  I  don't  think  there  are  any  crocodiles,  only  a 
few  sacred  tortoises  perhaps.  Look  !  there  is  a  tiny  one — 
that  small  yellow  thing  that  is  walking  away  with  the 
melancholy  dignity  of  a  retired  general.  Pick  it  up  if 
you  like  certainly,  see  it  wag  its  head  and  legs  helplessly.  I 
wish  we  could  take  it  home.  As  you  replace  it,  it  con- 
tinues its  grave  walk  in  the  same  direction  as  if  it  had 
never  been  rudely  interrupted.  At  that  instant  a  hare 
darts  across  an  open  glade  and  disappears  in  the  thick 
undergrowth.  What  a  country  !  ^Esop's  Fables  in  real 
life,  where  hares  and  tortoises  live  together  ! 

"  Was  this  city  here  at  the  same  time  as  Rameses  11, 
was  living  ?  " 
13 


194      ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

No.  Egypt  was  past  its  best  days  before  this  city,  which 
was  called  Anuradhapura  (Anarajapura),  was  built,  and 
you  must  remember  Rameses  ii.  was  by  no  means  one  of 
the  earliest  kings  of  Egypt,  he  came  quite  late  on  in  his 
country's  history.  His  date  was  about  thirteen  hundred 
years  before  Christ,  and  it  must  have  been  about  eight 
hundred  years  after  that,  though  still  you  notice,  500  B.C., 
that  this  city  was  founded  by  some  Cingalese  who  are  sup- 
posed to  have  come  over  from  India.  That  makes  it  be- 
tween two  thousand  and  three  thousand  years  old,  which 
we  should  think  ancient  enough  if  we  hadn't  visited 
Egypt  first.  Anuradhapura  flourished  for  centuries  as 
the  capital  of  the  Cingalese  kings,  who  often  carried  on 
savage  battles  with  the  Tamils  when  they  came  over  from 
India  also. 

Turn  round  now  and  examine  that  hill  you  wanted  to 
climb  a  little  while  ago  and  tell  me  if  you  can  see  anything 
peculiar  about  it.  No,  I  don't  mean  that  large  grey 
monkey  who  has  just  peeped  at  us  in  an  impudent  way 
and  then  swung  himself  into  hiding,  though  I  admit  he 
is  very  interesting.  I  mean  something  odd  about  the 
hill  itself.  It  is  covered  with  trees  and  jungle  scrub 
certainly,  as  any  ordinary  hill  might  be,  but  it  is  oddly 
steep  and  the  sides  rise  very  sharply  from  the  ground.  It 
is  an  even  shape  too,  more  like  an  inverted  bowl  than  a  hill ; 
or,  better  still,  just  try  to  imagine  some  giant  cutting  off 
the  dome  of  St.  Paul's  and  setting  it  down  here  in  the 
jungle,  wouldn't  it  look  something  like  that  ? 

You  don't  quite  agree,  for  you  say  that  this  has  trees 
and  bushes  growing  on  it  and  St.  Paul's  dome  would  be 
bare.  That  is  so,  but  if  St.  Paul's  dome  had  been  left  for 
many  hundreds  of  years  in  a  country  where  vegetation 
grows  as  fast  as  it  does  here,  wouldn't  it  probably  be 
grown  over  too  ? 

Yes,  I  do  mean  it.     That  isn't  a  hill  at  all,  but  a  huge 


A  SACRED  TREE 


195 


LARGE  GREY   MONKEY. 


brick  building  called  a  dagoba,  made  by  the  same  race 
of  men  who  dug  out  this  tank,  and  whose  descendants 
to-day,  with  tortoise-shell  combs  in  their  hair,  wait  on  us 
in  the  Colombo  hotels. 

We  will  go  back  now  to  the  place  where  we  left  that 
native  cart  and  driver  and  we'll  find  a  dagoba  which  has 
been  stripped  of  its  trees,  so  that  we  can  see  what  it  really 
looks  like. 

Hush  !  Do  you  hear  that  curious  singing  like  a  chant  ? 
Wait  ;  there  is  a  procession  of  pilgrims.  They  come 
swinging  round  the  corner  of  the  road  in  their  picturesque 
flowing  garments,  and  just  at  the  turn  they  stop  and  kneel 
with  their  hands  held  palms  together  before  their  faces, 


196   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

and  they  bow  repeatedly  before  marching  on  again.  Let  us 
go  and  find  out  what  it  was  that  stopped  them.  We  soon 
come  to  it  and  find  that  it  is  the  seated  figure  of  a  man 
with  one  hand  falHng  over  his  knee  and  the  other  on  his 
lap,  while  his  legs  are  crossed  tailor-wise.  It  is  painted 
white  and  it  is  not  very  much  larger  than  life.  This  is 
Buddha,  of  whom  you  heard  in  Kandy,  and  all  over  here, 
and  in  Burma,  and  in  a  less  degree  in  India,  you  will  find 
images  of  him  set  up  to  remind  his  followers  of  the  pre- 
cepts he  left  for  them  to  follow. 

Our  driver  is  dead  asleep  under  a  tree,  but  we  manage 
to  wake  him  and  soon  we  are  rattling  along  a  tree-shaded 
road  in  the  queer  little  cart  to  Ruanveli,  the  best  known  of 
all  the  dagobas.  When  we  arrive  in  full  view  of  it  we 
dismiss  the  driver  and  climb  on  to  a  slab  of  stone  that  is 
raised  from  the  ground  and  tilted  slightly  like  a  table  with 
two  legs  higher  than  the  others.  Here  we  can  gaze  upon  this 
extraordinary  monument  which  rises  about  one  hundred 
and  fifty  feet  into  the  air,  and  is  about  two  and  a  half  times 
as  much  across,  just  the  shape  of  a  pudding  basin,  you 
see.  It  is  not  a  temple,  not  even  a  tomb,  as  the  Pyramids 
are,  but  a  solid  block  built  of  millions  and  millions  of 
bricks  with  a  tiny  chamber  inside  containing  an  infinitely 
precious  relic,  nothing  less  than  a  few  of  Buddha's  hairs. 
So  they  say  !  Only  the  priests  were  allowed  to  go  into 
this  sacred  chamber,  with  the  exception  of  one  king,  who 
had  this  priceless  privilege  granted  to  him.  It  is  not 
very  many  years  since  mighty  monuments  were  re- 
discovered, because  the  jungle  had  grown  up  all  around 
them  and  no  one  knew  even  where  Anuradhapura  had 
stood  ;  but  now  there  are  men  who  spend  their  whole 
time  uncovering  and  preserving  them,  just  as  many  men 
are  working  at  the  excavations  in  Egypt ;  and  the  trees 
and  overgrowth  have  been  stripped  from  Ruanveli,  which 
stands  forth  sharp  and  clear-cut  against  this  beautiful  sky. 


A  SACRED  TREE  197 

Men  are  very  much  alike  all  the  world  over  !  This 
great  dagoba  was  put  up  by  one  of  the  Cingalese  kings, 
Dutugemunu,  to  celebrate  his  great  victory  over  the 
Tamils,  just  as  Rameses  11.  put  up  the  inimitable  temple 
of  Abu  Simbel  to  celebrate  his  victory  over  the  Syrians. 
Before  Dutugenmnu  came  to  the  throne  the  Tamils  had 
usurped  all  power  and  made  one  of  their  own  men,  called 
Elala,  king,  and  the  young  prince,  exiled  from  his  capital 
city,  met  them  in  battle  outside  the  walls.  He  fought 
with  great  bravery,  and  in  the  end  the  issue  of  the  day  was 
decided  by  a  single  combat  between  him  and  Elala,  both 
mounted  on  huge  elephants.  That  must  have  been  a 
fight  indeed  !  Dutugemunu  killed  Elala  and  regained  the 
throne  of  his  fathers,  but  he  must  have  been  a  singularly 
enlightened  prince  for  his  age,  for  he  not  only  buried  his 
fallen  foe  with  great  honour  but  he  gave  orders  that 
henceforth  all  music  should  cease  when  bands  were 
marching  past  his  tomb,  and  that  royalties  were  to  alight 
from  their  horses  or  palanquins  and  walk  past  on  foot 
to  do  honour  to  the  mighty  dead.  Even  in  the  nineteenth 
century  one  of  the  princes  from  Kandy,  who  was  flying 
from  capture,  obeyed  the  order  and  would  not  allow 
himself  to  be  carried  past  the  spot  !  So  the  memory  of 
Elala  and  the  great  fight  he  made  were  kept  alive  as 
Dutugemunu  had  intended  they  should  be. 

On  this  very  slab  where  we  are  now  sitting  it  is  said 
that  Dutugemunu  died.  If  not  the  actual  stone,  it  is 
probably  the  spot.  It  was  about  140  B.C.,  and  when  he 
knew  he  was  dying  lie  gave  orders  that  he  should  be 
carried  out  here,  tliat  his  fast  failing  eyes  miu^ht  look  their 
last  on  the  greatest  monument  of  his  reign.  In  the 
midst  of  his  great  city,  with  its  fine  buildings  and  the 
great  tanks  he  had  caused  to  be  made  to  give  the  people 
water,  he  thouglit  most  of  all  of  Ruanveli,  partly  because 
of  the  sacred  relic  enclosed,  but  partly  also  because  he  had 


198   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

done  a  wonderful  thing  in  paying  for  all  the  labour  that 
was  used  in  its  building,  instead  of  forcing  his  subjects  to 
work  for  nothing,  as  was  the  custom  in  his  time. 

There  is  much  to  examine  in  Ruanveli ;  we  can  see 
the  casing  of  granite  running  up  the  sides,  we  can  examine 
a  statue  of  the  king  himself  and  many  wonderful  carvings  ; 
around  the  dagoba  runs  a  magnificent  granite  platform 
wide  enough  for  six  elephants  to  walk  abreast,  as  no  doubt 
they  did  many  times  in  the  gay  processions  on  festival 
days. 

Behind  the  dagoba,  not  far  off,  is  an  immense  lake,  or 
tank,  much  larger  than  that  we  saw  this  morning.  It 
was  considered  a  peculiar  work  of  merit  for  kings  to  make 
these  tanks  so  that  water  could  be  stored  up  for  the  use 
of  the  people,  and  they  are  found  all  over  Ceylon;  there 
is  one  twenty  miles  in  length  ! 

The  sun  has  fallen  low  by  the  time  we  pass  on  to  the 
Brazen  Palace.  At  first,  when  we  near  it,  we  see  merely 
a  forest  of  columns  with  nothing  brazen  about  them  ; 
they  are  not  very  high,  about  twice  the  height  of  a  man 
perhaps,  and  they  are  set  in  rows  very  near  together. 
Altogether  there  are  one  thousand  six  hundred  of  them  ! 
There  is  no  roof  now,  but  in  the  days  of  its  glory  this  great 
house,  which  was  built  for  the  priest,  had  nine,  and  was 
finished  by  a  sheet  of  burnished  copper  which  caught  the 
sun's  rays  and  flashed  far  and  wide  beneath  the  clear 
blue  sky.  The  walls  were  decorated  with  glittering  stones 
and  the  fittings  were  of  the  most  costly  and  beautiful 
kind.  The  wonder  is  how  the  priests  found  room  to  walk 
about  between  those  multitudinous  columns  which  so 
filled  the  space  in  their  halls. 

One  more  sight  in  this  city  of  ancient  glory.  Do  you 
see  across  that  park-like  space  of  short  grass  some  fires 
glimmering  weirdly  in  the  dusk  which  has  now  fallen 
upon  us  ?     They  are  the  fires  of  pilgrims  who  are  camping 


A  SACRED  TREE 


199 


THE  BRAZEN  PALACE,  CEYLON. 

round  the  most  sacred  object  in  Anuradhapiira.  I  won't 
say  what  it  is.  Come  nearer.  A  heavy  scent,  hke  that  of 
tuberoses,  greets  us  as  we  approach ;  it  comes  from  the 
white  waxy  blossoms  of  the  frangipani  lying  in  that  card- 
board saucer  with  all  the  heads  put  outwards  like  the 
spokes  of  a  wheel.  In  the  centre  is  a  pink  blossom. 
Those  flowers  are  sold  as  offerings  in  this  sacred  place. 
Don't  stumble  over  that  dark  bundle,  it  is  a  sleeping  child. 
Step  cautiously  between  the  bright-eyed  people  who  watch, 
furtively  alert,  like  shy  woodland  creatures,  as  they  crouch 
low  over  their  fires,  for  the  evening  has  suddenly  become 
chilly  with  the  loss  of  tlic  sun.  These  are  pilgrims  come 
from  afar,  and  they  will  lie  down  to  sleep  just  as  they  are 
in  the  open.     There  are  very  few  at  this  time  of  the  year ; 


200   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

but  in  June  and  July,  which  are  the  principal  months, 
thousands  and  thousands  arrive  here,  having  crossed 
weary  leagues  to  come.  It  is  strange  how  the  world  is 
linked  up  by  its  pilgrimages.  We  saw  the  pilgrims  in  the 
Holy  Land  coming  from  afar  to  the  Christian  shrines, 
humble  and  devout,  believing  all  that  was  told  them  and 
carrying  out  in  their  poor  lives  much  of  Christ's  teaching  ; 
we  saw  them  in  crowded  and  uncomfortable  ships  journey- 
ing from  Mecca,  the  shrine  of  Mohammedanism ;  and  now 
we  see  them  here  reverently  drawn  to  the  only  sacred 
place  they  know,  there  to  pray  to  something  unseen  and 
unknown,  that  they  may  be  helped  by  a  power  stronger 
than  themselves.  In  all  ages  and  all  races  man  yearns 
for  a  god,  and  if  he  knows  not  God  he  still  worships  dimly 
any  strange  god  he  hears  of. 

We  cross  some  brick  pavement,  and  climb  up  a  few  worn 
steps  on  to  a  platform  surrounded  by  a  railing.  Out  of 
the  middle  of  it  there  grows  a  gnarled  and  ancient  tree 
with  crooked  boughs  splitting  asunder  with  hardly  any 
leaves  on  them. 

Now  do  you  see  ? 

You  only  see  monkeys  looking  like  little  black  demons 
against  the  afterglow  still  lingering  in  the  sky  as  they  leap 
from  the  tall  palm  trees  near,  but  this  tree  is  not  a  palm. 

Suddenly  a  leaf,  shaped  like  that  of  a  poplar,  but  much 
larger,  floats  down,  and  in  an  instant  a  slight  dark  figure, 
tied  up  in  a  bundle  of  loose  clothes,  falls  upon  it,  and 
holding  it  between  the  palms  of  the  hands  bows  again  and 
again.  That  leaf  is  a  precious  relic,  for  this  is  the  sacred 
Bo  tree,  said  to  be  at  least  two  thousand  years  old  ! 

After  the  Cingalese  had  come  over  from  India  and 
settled  here,  a  monk  came  and  converted  them  to 
Buddhism  ;  he  was  followed  by  his  sister,  a  princess,  as 
he  was  a  prince,  and  she  brought  with  her,  so  it  is  said, 
a  branch  of  the  actual  tree  under  which  Buddha  sat  when 


« 


SWAYING   ITS   LEAN   UNLOVELY    BODY  TO   AND   FRO  IN   TIME  WITH   THE  TUNE. 


A  SACRED  TREE  201 

he  considered  all  the  problems  of  life  and  found  an  answer 
to  them,  which  he  left  to  his  people.  This  branch,  being 
planted,  became  a  tree  itself.  So  the  story  goes ;  and  that 
there  has  been  a  tree  here  worshipped  for  untold  ages  is 
true,  and  if  that  is  so,  whatever  its  origin,  this  also  to  us 
is  a  sacred  spot,  hallowed  by  the  thousands  of  poor  souls 
who,  knowing  not  the  light,  yet  have  come  here  with 
yearnings  towards  the  light  and  to  the  "  unknown  god." 

After  dinner  we  wander  out  again  into  the  tree-shaded 
road  near,  and  a  sight  of  extraordinary  splendour  startles 
us.  Every  tree  is  brilliantly  illuminated  as  if  by  a  million 
points  of  electric  light.  You  have  seen  an  arc-light  which 
seems  to  scintillate  rays  ?  These  lights  might  be  very 
tiny  arc-lights,  for  each  one  vibrates  in  the  intensity  of 
its  luminousness.  We  can  see  the  outlines  of  the  trees 
clearly.  It  is  a  wonderful  evening  for  fire-flies.  No  one 
knows  why  on  some  nights  they  appear  like  this  in  countless 
thousands,  and  on  other  nights,  apparently  the  same,  there 
is  not  one  to  be  seen.  It  looks  almost  as  if  they  had 
parties  and  agreed  to  do  their  best  on  certain  occasions. 
They  have  evidently  done  their  best  for  us  to-night,  for  the 
other  people  following  us  out  of  the  hotel,  who  have  been 
here  longer  than  us,  are  entranced. 

"  Never  saw  anything  like  it,  not  even  in  the  West 
Indies,"  says  one  man. 

"  Puts  a  Christmas  tree  in  the  shade,"  remarks  another. 

Catch  one,  lie  doesn't  burn ;  don't  grab  him  so  as  to 
hurt  him,  just  take  him  gently;  that  is  right ;  bring  him 
into  the  light  and  open  your  hand  a  little.  You  see  he 
is  a  flat,  greenish  beetle,  with  head  set  on  a  funny  hinge 
so  that  he  could  nod  it  violently  if  he  liked.  Half  shut 
your  hand  and  turn  away  from  the  liglit ;  now  you  see  two 
round  green  eyes  glowing  like  emeralds.  He  doesn't 
seem  embarrassed  by  all  this  attention,  but  you  miglit  let 
him  go  back  to  his  party  ! 


202   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

When  we  have  let  him  go  we  will  walk  down  the  avenue 
of  living  light,  where  is  one  thing  more  to  see  to-night» 
It  is  only  ten  minutes'  walk  and  as  we  near  it  it  gleams  in 
the  dim  light  of  the  brilliant  stars,  a  ghostly  white  object. 
As  our  eyes  grow  accustomed  to  the  light  we  see  a  building- 
like a  snow-white  bell.  It  is  small  compared  with  the 
gigantic  dagobas  we  have  examined  already  to-day,  for  the 
very  tip  of  the  pinnacle,  rising  above  the  bell-shaped  part^ 
is  only  sixty-three  feet,  but  it  is  very  graceful  and  is 
considered  the  most  sacred  of  all  the  dagobas,  for  it  was 
built  to  enshrine  Buddha's  collar-bone  ! 

We  haven't  seen  the  half  of  Anuradhapura  yet,  and 
there  are  numbers  of  other  ancient  cities  in  Ceylon  to 
explore,  to  say  nothing  of  rock-temples  with  strange 
paintings  and  carvings  ;  but  we  mustn't  be  here  too  long- 
or  we  shan't  get  through  India  and  Burma  before  the 
hot  weather  comes,  which  no  European  can  endure. 

The  white  coating  of  this  dagoba  is  a  stuff  called 
chunam,  a  kind  of  lime.  It  is  startlingly  white  and  looks, 
beautiful  at  night,  but  otherwise  it  is  just  a  sort  of  white- 
wash, clean  enough  but  not  particularly  attractive. 
There  are  numbers  of  the  same  square-cut  granite  columns 
that  we  saw  at  the  Brazen  Temple  falling  about  near  the 
dagoba,  some  this  way  and  some  that.  A  good  place 
for  snakes,  that  is  why  we  came  round  by  the  road  and 
walked  so  carefully. 

Hullo  !  There  is  one  !  Keep  still !  Did  you  see  him 
wriggle  across  among  the  interlacing  shadows  of  the 
trees  ?  A  large  one  too  !  Thank  goodness  he  has  gone 
harmlessly  !  I  wonder  what  sort  he  was  ?  W^e  ought  not 
to  have  come  out,  let  us  get  back  as  quickly  as  we  can. 


A   BULLOCK   CART. 


CHAPTER   XVII 


UNWELCOME    INTRUDERS 


India  at  last  ! 

We  have  come  up  the  west  coast  from  Ceylon  and  are 
now  approaching  Bombay.  It  is  night-time,  and  far 
ahead  we  see  a  great  yellow  light  which  appears  and 
disappears,  and  is  visible  for  twenty  miles  out  at  sea. 
It  seems  to  blink  at  us  in  greeting,  peeping  every  few 
seconds  to  see  if  we  are  still  there.  Then  at  last  we  ride 
into  the  harbour,  and  such  a  harbour  !  We  cannot  see 
it  now  at  all,  and  even  if  it  were  daylight  we  couldn't  see 
more  than  a  very  small  part  of  it,  for  it  is  fifteen  miles 
one  way  by  four  or  five  the  other,  and  a  harbour  tluit 
size  cannot  be  taken  in  at  one  glance. 

We  have  to  sleep  on  board,  for  there  are  some  for- 


303 


204   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

malities  to  be  observed  before  we  go  ashore.  There  is  our 
heavy  baggage  to  get  out  of  the  hold,  for  instance,  and 
to  pass  through  the  Customs.  That  can  wait  until  to- 
morrow. 

Our  first  impression  of  Bombay  is  therefore  a  city  of 
lights.  There  are  lights  sprinkled  about  anyhow  and 
anywhere ;  some  in  chains,  some  separate,  some  low, 
and  some  apparently  slung  high  up  in  mid-air.  These  are 
on  the  hill  above  the  town,  which  itself  stands  on  an 
island. 

The  very  first  incident  we  notice  is  a  ludicrous  one, 
and  I  am  sure  we  shan't  forget  it.  A  rather  stout  English- 
man who  is  landing  to-night  steps  on  to  the  launch,  and 
in  an  instant  is  garlanded  with  marigolds  hung  in  wreaths 
round  his  neck.  A  crowd  of  native  friends  surrounds 
him.  Some  are  in  European  dress,  and  talk  a  queer  sort 
of  English  very  fast  and  fluently,  as  if  it  were  being 
pumped  out  of  their  mouths  by  the  yard ;  others  wear 
the  flowing  drapery  of  the  East.  Many  of  them  carry 
bunches  of  flowers,  which  look  more  like  balls,  because 
the  native  habit  is  to  strip  off  every  atom  of  leaf  and  then 
pack  the  blossoms  with  all  their  heads  together  as  tight 
as  they  will  go.  Many  such  balls  are  being  pressed  upon 
the  embarrassed  Englishman,  and  the  scent  of  crushed 
marigolds  fills  the  air.  This  is  all  by  way  of  welcome, 
and  it  is  evident  that  the  newcomer  is  a  prime  favourite 
with  the  people.  He  looks  sheepish,  but  his  round  rosy 
face  rises  good-humouredly  above  the  absurd  garlands. 

Next  morning  we  are  up  in  good  time,  and  as  soon  as 
ever  we  get  our  baggage  clear  of  the  Customs  we  go  sight- 
seeing. In  our  nostrils  is  the  subtle  scent  of  India ;  it 
has  something  of  dust  in  it,  but  is  not  chiefly  dust,  as  in 
Egypt ;  there  is  a  waft  of  wood- smoke,  and  a  strong  flavour 
of  mixed  spices,  and  some  hint  of  sweet  flowers,  and 
many  other  things  not  so  agreeable.     It  is  a  blend  that 


UNWELCOME  INTRUDERS  205 

any  Anglo-Indian  knows,  and  if  he  smelt  it  suddenly 
when  he  was  thousands  of  miles  away,  with  the  daisied 
grass  beneath  his  feet,  and  the  swallows  wheeling  over- 
head, it  would  carry  him  back  with  a  jump  to  a  land  of 
dark  faces  and  burning  sun  and  red  dust,  and  all  the  vivid 
sights  of  the  East. 

We  are  not  starting  on  our  great  journey  across  India 
until  the  evening,  so  we  can  wander  at  will  through  the 
broad  clean  streets,  looking  into  the  magnificent  shops 
that  might  be  in  any  European  town,  and  then  we  can 
plunge  into  the  native  part,  where  we  find  narrow,  busy 
bazaars  that  might  belong  to  the  Arabian  Nights. 

Bombay  was  one  of  the  first  bits  of  India  to  belong  to 
the  English.  The  Portuguese  held  it  before  then,  and 
gave  it  to  our  nation  as  part  of  the  dower  of  Catherine 
of  Braganza,  the  Portuguese  princess  who  married  Charles 
II.  You  know  the  old  saying,  "  trade  follows  the  flag," 
and  it  certainly  did  in  Bombay,  for  the  East  India  Com- 
pany rented  the  city  from  the  king  at  £10  a  year.  The 
Company  pushed  forward  all  over  the  rest  of  India  year 
by  year,  and  it  was  through  their  steady  and  persistent 
advance  in  the  country  that  the  British  finally  occupied 
India — so  later  on  the  saying  was  reversed,  and  "  the  flag 
followed  trade,"  as  it  more  often  does.  But  you  know 
that  story,  every  British  boy  does,  the  story  of  Clive 
and  Hastings,  and  later  on  of  the  Mutiny ;  it  is  a  part 
of  English  history  and  one  of  the  most  thrilling  parts  too. 

Bombay  is  a  city  of  trade  ;  her  immense  docks  receive 
ships  of  all  sizes,  her  wharves  are  laden  with  the  produce 
of  the  world,  her  wide  streets  are  open  to  traffic  of  all 
descriptions,  her  public  buildings  are  splendid,  her  clubs 
and  hotels  palatial.  Iler  merchants  prosper  and  grow 
rich,  and  build  for  themselves  houses  on  Malabar  Hill, 
the  long  ridge  above  the  town,  which  catches  the  sea- 
breezes.     At    one   time   that   ridge    was   looked    upon   as 


2o6   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

sacred  to  Europeans,  but  now  the  wealthy  natives  settle 
there,  and  there  is  not  room  for  all  the  poorer  Europeans, 
who  have  to  be  content  with  lower  levels. 

Stand  still  for  a  moment  in  this  street,  and  look  around. 
Here  comes  a  motor-car,  and  in  it  lolls  a  hugely  fat  man 
wath  a  yellow  skin,  and  that  crafty  insolent  look  which 
marks  the  successful  native  trader  ;  his  thick  neck  rolls 
in  creases  above  his  purple  brocade  coat.  But  they  are 
not  all  like  this ;  some  are  thoughtful  men  who  have 
given  lakhs  of  rupees  for  the  public  good. 

What  a  contrast  !  Here  is  one  of  the  poorest  of  the 
poor.  A  bullock-cart  comes  along,  drawn  by  two  lean 
animals  with  their  ribs  sticking  out.  A  heavy  yoke 
passes  across  their  necks,  but  otherwise  they  have  not 
a  scrap  of  harness  on  them.  That  lean  man  huddled  up 
on  the  pole  between  them,  clad  in  a  few  yards  of  rag,  prods 
them  with  a  pointed  stick  when  he  wants  them  to  go 
this  way  and  that.  He  dares  not  now  twist  their  tails 
till  he  breaks  them,  or  keep  open  running  sores  so  that 
he  may  prick  them  in  a  sensitive  part,  as  he  would  have 
done  at  one  time,  for  if  he  did  the  police  would  be  down 
on  him. 

On  the  side-walk  there  is  a  lady,  yes,  it  is  a  lady — in 
very  baggy  green  and  gold  trousers,  with  gold  anklets 
tinkling  as  she  walks.  Her  head  and  face  are  swathed 
in  a  "  sari "  or  shawl  of  shot  gold  and  purple,  which  only 
allows  her  heavy  black  eyes  to  appear  above  its  folds. 
The  street  is  alive  with  men  in  white ;  some  wear  long  white 
coats  buttoned  down  over  the  kind  of  white  petticoat 
called  a  dhoti^  others  have  the  curious  habit  of  wearing 
their  shirts  outside  their  trousers  like  a  kilt,  but  you 
soon  get  used  to  this,  and  cease  to  notice  it.  That  fellow 
in  a  tall  extinguisher  cap  made  of  lamb's  wool  is  a  Persian. 

In  the  midst  of  all  this  queer  crowd,  which  looks  like 
a  fancy-dress  ball  let  loose  in  broad  daylight,  run  the 


UNWELCOME  INTRUDERS 


207 


curving 


steel  tram-lines.  There  are  shades  of  every 
complexion  to  be  seen.  That  very  fresh,  pink-faced  lady, 
who  has  just  gone  dashing  by  in  her  smart  "  tum-tum  " 
or  pony-cart,  is  at  one  end  of  the  scale — she  is  probably 
newly  out  from  home,— and  that  ebony-black  native 
woman  of  so  low  a  caste  that  she  goes  uncovered  in  the 
public  street  is  at  the  other,  but  even  she,  poor  thing,  cares 
enough  about  her  personal  appear- 
ance to  wear  a  gold  ring  through 
one  of  her  nostrils ! 

Now  we  can  see  the  long  out- 
line of  jMalabar  Hill  quite  clearly, 
and  below  all  its  trees  and  gardens 
and  the  great  houses  rising  among 
them,  but  at  one  part,  the  highest, 
the   hill   is   kept   for   other   uses. 

Look  up  into  the  clear  blue  sky 

overhead,    do    you    see    a    black 

speck  ?     Not  got  it  yet  ?     Wait  a 

moment  and  try  again.     There  ! 

That  is  right,  and  there  is  another 

and  another ;  you  can't  help  see- 
ing  them   now.      Tlieir    flight    is 

the  slow  heavy   flight  of  clumsy 

birds.      What     do    you    suppose 

they  are  ?     Vultures.     They  live, 

as  you   know,  on   carrion,  wliich 

is  dead  flesh,  and  the  vultures  of 

Bombay   are    peculiarly    favoured,   for   they  banquet   on 

human  bodies. 

In  this  district  there  are  a  large  number  of  Parsees  or 

fire- worshippers,    and    tliese    people    have    their    peculiar 

ceremonies.     Under  the  British  Crown  every  man  is  free 

to  carry  out  his  own  rchgion  in  his  own  way;  persecution 

is  unknown.     The  Parsees  have  their  cemetery  on  the  top 


A   PERSIAN. 


2o8   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

of  that  high  hill ;  it  is  a  beautiful  place,  laid  out  in 
gardens,  and  reached  by  flights  of  steps.  Only  at  one 
end  are  five  grim  towers  shut  in  by  a  wall  and  called  the 
Towers  of  Silence.  Their  parapets  are  high,  and  none  may 
climb  to  the  top  except  certain  men  set  apart  and  dedicated 
for  this  terrible  work.  When  a  Parsee  dies,  his  body  is 
borne  reverently  and  with  care  to  the  gardens  on  the  hill, 
but  instead  of  burying  it  in  the  earth,  these  men  take  it 
up  the  winding  stairs  of  one  of  the  towers  and  lay  it  on 
the  roof,  and  then  retire.  The  vultures  do  the  rest  I 
No  human  being  has  ever  seen  that  dread  spectacle,  for 
when  the  men  come  back  again  about  a  fortnight  later 
there  are  only  the  clean  bleached  bones  of  the  skeleton 
to  take  away  and  lay  in  quicklime  to  be  absorbed. 

So  the  vultures  hover  over  Bombay  and  sit  like  great 
images  around  the  parapets  on  the  Towers  of  Silence, 
knowing  that  they  will  never  lack  a  meal  ! 

We  have  seen  many  and  bewildering  things  in  this  great 
city,  and  when  at  last  we  arrive  at  the  station  between  five 
and  six  in  the  evening,  for  our  first  journey  across  this  vast 
land,  we  are  glad  to  rest.  We  engaged  our  places  directly 
we  arrived,  for  here,  where  a  journey  takes  often  nights 
and  days,  it  is  no  use  wandering  in  casually  a  few  minutes 
before  the  train  starts.  We  also  engaged  the  whole  of  a 
compartment  to  ourselves,  as  we  want  a  good  night's  sleep. 
It  has  been  cleaned  and  prepared,  and  looks  very  comfort- 
able when  we  come  to  claim  it.  There  are  two  seats  run- 
ning lengthwise,  the  opposite  way  to  that  which  they  do 
in  an  English  train.  Above  them  are  two  more  which  can 
be  let  down  as  bunks  if  required,  so  that  the  carriage  can 
accommodate  four,  but  as  we  have  paid  extra  to  get  it  to 
ourselves  we  ought  not  to  be  disturbed. 

By  the  way,  you  haven't  seen  any  Indian  money  yet. 
This  is  a  rupee,  a  large  and  substantial  coin  you  see,  about 


UNWELCOME  INTRUDERS 


209 


SIT   LIKE   IMAGES   ROUND  THE   PARAPET. 


as  big  as  a  two-shilling  piece,  but  it  is  only  worth  one  and 
fourpence ;  fifteen  of  them  go  to  the  pound.  An  anna  is  a 
penny,  and  that  little  coin  like  a  threepenny  bit  is  a  two- 
anna  bit. 

We  have  had  to  hire  a  native  boy  to  travel  with  us  and 
look  after  the  luggage,  as  it  is  difficult  to  do  without  one  in 
India.  All  servants  are  called  "  boys  "  here,  even  if  they 
are  grey-headed  ;  our  man  is  probably  about  five-and- 
twenty.  He  is  called  Ramaswamy,  and  has  a  chocolate- 
coloured  moon-face  with  big  round  eyes  ;  I  think  he  is 
intelligent  though  he  looks  stupid.  He  is  dressed  in  spot- 
less white,  his  garments  consisting  of  a  short  jacket  and  a 
dhoti,  and  he  wears  a  large  round  turban  on  his  head,  and 
a  pair  of  neat  little  gold  earrings  in  his  ears.  It  is  a  very 
14 


2IO      ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

difficult  thing  to  get  a  really  trustworthy  boy,  but  the 
Madrassees  are  the  best,  and  Ramaswamy  conies  from  the 
Madras  country  far  south  ;  he  has  been  in  service  with  a 
man  I  know  for  two  years,  and  as  he  is  only  lent  to  us  for 
this  trip  he  will  probably  behave  himself.  He  is  piling  up 
our  bedding  in  a  corner  of  the  carriage,  and  later  on  when 
the  train  stops  at  a  station  for  a  few  minutes  he  will  come 
to  spread  it  out.  It  seems  funny  to  have  to  carry  bedding 
with  us  on  a  journey,  but  it  is  very  necessary  here.  We 
have  pillows  and  rugs  and  a  couple  of  rezai  each.  These 
are  rather  like  eider-down  quilts,  but  are  stuffed  with 
cotton  instead  of  down,  so  they  are  heavier,  and  very  com- 
fortable they  are  to  lie  upon  when  doubled  up. 

You  remarked  on  the  amount  of  luggage  we  seem  to  be 
taking  in  the  carriage,  it  is  a  simple  nothing  to  what  is  the 
custom  here ;  look  at  all  that  being  piled  into  the  next 
compartment  !  Besides  masses  of  bedding  there  is  a 
deck-chair,  a  typewriter,  a  case  for  a  topee,  or  helmet,  a 
guncase,  two  portmanteaus,  and  a  box  of  books,  as  well 
as  a  lunch-basket.  The  owner,  a  pleasant-looking,  sun- 
browned  Englishman,  stands  by  giving  orders  to  his  native 
servants  in  Hindustanee,  which  is  a  language  spoken  by 
the  English  people  to  the  natives  and  understood  pretty 
nearly  everywhere.  That  man  is  almost  certainly  what  is 
here  known  as  a  "  civilian,"  that  is  to  say,  one  of  the  men 
in  the  Indian  Civil  Service  who  govern  India.  They  have 
to  pass  stiff  examinations  at  home,  and  then  come  out  here 
for  a  number  of  years  to  do  all  the  work  of  government, 
being  magistrates,  judges,  rulers,  and  general  protectors 
of  the  native,  giving  up  their  lives  to  the  country,  and 
dealing  out  justice  to  all  men.  Some  men  have  not  the 
habit  of  command,  but  if  it  is  in  them  at  all  it  comes  out 
here,  where  one  white  man  alone  in  a  district  running  to 
hundreds  of  miles  often  has  everything  in  his  own  hands  ; 
he  has  to  make  decisions  in  an  instant  of  emergency,  and 


UNWELCOME  INTRUDERS 


211 


stand  by  them,  compel  evildoers  to  behave,  save  the 
miserable  low-caste  natives,  ground  down  by  those  above 
them,  and  often  to  hold  his  life  in  his  hand  for  fear  of  the 
knife  or  bullet  of  a  fanatic. 

A  little  farther  up  the 
platform  there  is  a  gorgeous 
group,  of  which  the  central 
figure  is  a  fine  tall  man, 
slenderly  built,  with  a  clear 
proud  face.  He  is  dressed 
in  marvellous  silks  which 
shimmer  and  flash  in  the  late 
afternoon  sunlight.  His 
upper  garment  is  deep  rich 
rose,  and  the  lower  one  a 
medley  of  greens  and  gold. 
Watch  the  flashing  of  that 
great  jewel  wliich  fastens  the 
aigrette  in  his  turban ;  it 
is  probably  worth  anywhere 
about  tliree  thousand  pounds. 
That  man  is  a  native  prince, 
and  those  very  splendid 
gentlemen  in  purple  and 
yellow  silk  are  seeing  him 
off.  There  are  many  of 
these  native  rulers  or  maha- 
rajahs  in  India,  and  they 
keep  up  the  state  of  royalty 
and  are  treated  with  respect. 

So  h)ng  as  they  rule  their  people  wisely  the  British  Govern- 
ment does  not  interfere  witli  them. 

Sometimes  one  thinks  of  India  as  one  whole  country,  as 
England  is  or  France,  but  that  is  not  true.  It  is  not,  and 
never  was.     The  state  held  by  a  native  prince  may  be 


A   RAJAH. 


212       ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

only  the  size  of  a  gentleman's  country  estate,  but  it  may 
be  as  large  as  the  United  Kingdom.  In  the  old  days  the 
rulers  of  these  kingdoms  were  for  ever  fighting  against 
each  other,  and  though  one  of  them  sometimes  got  the 
better  of  his  neighbours  for  a  while,  India  was  never  ruled 
from  end  to  end  by  one  sovereign  until  it  passed  into  the 
possession  of  Great  Britain.  The  nations  and  races  who 
make  up  this  vast  land  are  as  different  from  each  other 
as  the  races  of  Europe  ;  to  think  of  them  as  being  one 
people  would  be  as  foolish  as  to  imagine  that  you,  say,  and 
an  Italian,  were  one  people. 

The  size  of  India  is  a  thing  almost  impossible  to  con- 
ceive. In  old-fashioned  atlases  the  whole  of  this  mighty 
land  was  often  given  one  page  to  itself,  and  little  England 
was  put  on  another  just  the  same  size,  that  is  to  say,  they 
were  drawn  on  quite  different  scales,  a  mile  in  England 
being  given  about  as  much  space  as  forty  miles  in  India  ! 
The  best  way  to  judge  is  this — picture  India  set  down  on 
the  map  of  Europe,  and  you  will  find  it  would  cover  about 
half  of  it  ! 

At  the  other  end  of  the  train,  the  third-class  end,  what 
a  contrast  to  His  Highness  !  Here  a  crowd  of  natives  of  all 
kinds  have  been  crammed  into  what  look  like  covered-in 
trucks,  and  they  are  squatting  on  the  floor.  There  is  no 
hardship  in  that,  they  prefer  it ;  to  sit  on  chairs  is  an  art 
only  acquired  by  the  Europeanised.  There  are  women  here 
as  well  as  men  ;  look  at  that  handsome  creature  whose 
crimson  scarf  has  slipped  off  her  sheeny  black  hair, 
showing  the  gold  ring  in  her  nose  and  the  huge  decorative 
ear-rings  !  She  is  hugging  a  tiny  boy  with  one  blue  bead 
slung  round  his  neck  as  a  charm,  just  as  it  was  round 
the  donkey's  neck  in  Egypt, — people  are  very  much 
alike  all  the  world  over  !  This  little  chap  has  silver 
bangles  on  his  podgy  ankles  but  not  a  rag  of  any  sort 
of  clothing. 


UNWELCOME  INTRUDERS 


213 


NATIVES   AT   THE   RAILWAY   STATION. 


These  people  are  packed  so  tightly  you  could  hardly 
get  a  foot  in  between  them,  but  they  are  very  happy, 
because  they  love  travelling.  Natives  have  no  idea  of 
time,  and  when  they  are  going  to  start  on  a  journey  as 
likely  as  not  they  arrive  at  the  station  the  evening  before, 
sleep  rolled  round  in  their  garments  where  they  may 
happen  to  be,  and  next  day  eat  a  handful  of  something 
or  other  they  carry  with  them,  waiting  patiently  till 
that  marvellous  object,  the  train,  condescends  to  start. 
Most  of  these  here  are  mimching  sweetmeats ;  they  love 
tliem  as  children  do,  and  the  sweetmeat-seller  never 
lacks  trade.  There  he  is,  with  a  tray  on  his  shoulder  ! 
A  man  with  a  water-pot  stops  by  the  third  classes  and 
pours  some  of  the  precious  fluid  into  the  cups  held  out 


2  14   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

to  him,  and  even  into  one  man's  hands.  You  notice 
that  he  is  careful  not  to  touch  either  hand  or  cup.  In 
India  there  is  an  extraordinary  custom  called  caste, 
deep-rooted  in  the  natives.  They  are  all  divided  into 
higher  and  lower  castes,  according  to  their  birth,  and 
those  of  a  higher  caste  will  not  allow  those  of  a  lower 
caste  to  touch  them  or  prepare  their  food  and  drink, 
for  they  fancy  they  would  be  defiled  !  Only  the  lowest 
castes  of  all  will  do  dirty  work,  such  as  scavenging  and 
carrying  away  refuse,  and  you  can  imagine  what  difficulties 
all  this  leads  to.  The  Brahman,  who  is  the  highest  caste, 
will  not  touch  food  which  has  been  defiled  even  by  having 
the  shadow  of  another  fall  on  it,  he  would  throw  it  away 
and  remain  hungry  sooner. 

As  we  stroll  back  to  our  places  we  pass  various  men 
with  marks  on  their  foreheads ;  these  are  caste-marks 
and  to  those  who  understand  they  tell  a  great  deal. 
Standing  beside  the  second  classes  we  see  a  short-sighted 
gentleman  in  glasses,  wearing  an  alpaca  suit  ;  he  has 
with  him  a  lady,  who,  like  himself,  is  coffee-coloured. 
She  is  wearing  a  full  petticoat  of  brocaded  silk,  and  has 
a  very  lovely  shawl  edged  with  sequins  thrown  round 
her  head  in  place  of  a  hat,  but,  alas,  all  this  magnifi- 
cence is  spoilt  by  the  pair  of  tight  and  obviously  most 
uncomfortable  yellow  leather  European  shoes,  which  she 
has  put  on  to  show  how  fashionable  she  is.  ^\Tien 
she  climbs  into  the  carriage  she  immediately  takes  them 
off,  putting  them  on  the  seat  beside  her,  and  shows  a 
pair  of  bare  brown  feet  without  shame.  The  shoes  were 
only  meant  for  show,  and  she  has  endured  them  to  the 
utmost  ! 

Well,  we  are  off !  And  as  it  is  dark  we  can't,  unfor- 
tunately, see  much  of  the  country,  which  at  first  is  quite 
pretty.  Presently  we  cross  the  sea  by  a  long  bridge  and 
notice    the    lights  reflected  sparkling  in  the  water,   and 


UNWELCOME  INTRUDERS  215 

then  we  begin  to  climb  up  into  the  hills  and  it  quickly 
grows  colder. 

While  we  go  along  to  the  restaurant-car  for  dinner 
Ramaswamy  takes  advantage  of  the  stoppage  of  the  train 
to  hasten  along,  settling  his  turban  as  he  comes.  He  must 
never  appear  before  us  without  it  ;  we  are  supposed  to 
think  it  a  fixture  on  his  round  cropped  head,  and  also  he 
must  not  come  into  a  room  where  we  are  with  his  shoes 
on  !  Odd  how  fashion  differs  !  With  us  men  remove 
the  head-covering  on  entering  a  room,  but  would  not 
dream  of  being  so  rude  as  to  take  off  their  shoes  ! 

When  we  come  back  after  dinner  we  find  our  bedding 
neatly  spread  out  and  looking  very  inviting.  As  there 
is  nothing  else  to  do  it  is  not  long  before  we  turn  in  and 
fall  asleep,  lulled  by  the  rumbling  of  the  train. 

I  am  deep  in  dreamland  when  I  am  woke  unpleasantly 
by  a  draught  of  icy  air  as  the  door  at  the  end  of  the 
compartment  is  pushed  open,  and  I  realise  the  train  has 
stopped  at  a  station.  The  native  guard  stands  in  the 
doorway  apologetically  fumbling  with  the  key  which  he 
has  just  used  in  undoing  the  door.  "  Mem-sahib  coming 
in,"  says  he  hopelessly,  and  a  very  disagreeable  high- 
pitched  voice  makes  itself  heard  behind  him.  Pushing 
rudely  past  come  a  man  and  woman  so  much  alike  they 
must  be  brother  and  sister  :  thev  have  both  coarse  features 
and  clumsy  squat  figures  ;  they  speak  English  but  with 
a  strong  Colonial  accent  of  some  kind. 

*'  They  can't  have  it  all  their  own  way,"  says  Madam 
viciously.     "  I'm  coming  in  here,  and  that's  flat." 

An  overloaded  coolie  follows,  and  dumps  down  masses 
of  roUed-up  bedding  and  trunks  into  the  small  space 
between  our  bunks  and  departs. 

"  Tliis  compartment  is  engaged,"  I  say  as  politely  as 
I  can,  conscious  that  I  don't  look  dignified  in  shirt-sleeves, 
but  thankful  I  have  only  taken  off  my  coat  and  boots. 


2i6      ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 


(( 


Can't  help  that,"  snaps  the  lady. 

"  Isn't  there  any  other "  I  begin  patiently. 

"  I  telling  the  Mem-sahib,"  begins  the  guard  plaintively, 
"  that  there  is  one  with  only " 

"  Don't  care  if  there  is  !  Horace,  undo  that  bundle. 
I'm  going  to  bed  at  once,"  and  the  newcomer  proceeds 
to  remove  her  coat  and  hat. 

The  guard  hastily  lets  down  the  two  upper  bunks  and 
disappears  as  the  train  gets  under  way  again. 

Appalled  at  the  idea  of  how  much  she  may  think  it 
necessary  to  remove,  and  thankful  that  you  are  sleeping 
peacefully  through  all  the  turmoil,  I  get  up  and  grope  for 
my  shoes. 

"  If  you  prefer  the  lower  bunk  it  is  at  your  service,"  I 
say,  making  the  best  of  a  bad  job  and  gathering  up  my 
coverlets.     She  deigns  to  snap  out  "  Thanks  !  " 

"  I  will  go  outside  until  you're  ready,"  I  say,  retreating 
to  the  small  platform  between  the  carriages  ;  there  is 
nothing  else  for  it,  as  there  isn't  room  to  turn  inside.  Just 
as  I  leave  I  add  to  the  man,  "  Don't  wake  the  boy  if  you 
can  help  it,  he  has  had  a  hard  day." 

It  is  intensely  cold  outside,  and  after  having  smoked 
two  cigarettes  I  think  I  may  venture  in  again  as  I  hear 
no  sounds,  so  I  knock,  and  getting  no  answer  enter.  By 
the  dim  light  I  make  out  the  form  of  the  lady  in  my  bunk ; 
but  that  is  surely  not  the  brother  in  the  one  opposite  ? 
It  is  !  The  impudence  of  it  !  They  have  turned  you 
out  and  made  you  go  into  the  upper  one.  As  I  climb  to 
my  own  perch,  internally  wrathful  and  debating  whether 
I  shall  not  poke  the  man  up  and  make  him  restore  you  to 
your  place,  I  hear  your  sleepy  voice  in  a  stage  whisper — 

''  He  made  me  come  up  here."  Then  deliberately, 
leaning  over  and  with  mischief  in  your  voice,  you  add  : 
*'  I  suppose  when  you  are  fat  like  that  it  would  be  very 
difficult  to  climb." 


UNWELCOME  INTRUDERS  217 

I  think  you  got  your  own  back  !  I  saw  the  fellow 
squirm  ! 

Bad  as  they  were  at  night  our  fellow-travellers  are 
worse  in  the  daytime.  They  won't  get  up  until  ten 
o'clock,  and  we  have  to  stay  outside  until  they  do, 
as  there  is  nowhere  to  sit  down.  Ramaswamy  brings  us 
chota  hazri,  consisting  of  tea  and  toast  and  plantains,  and 
we  eat  it  outside.  The  Englishman  in  the  next  compart- 
ment looks  out  presently  and  invites  us  in.  He  lauglis 
when  he  hears  of  our  adventure.  "  Brutes  !  "  he  says 
tersely ;  "  people  like  that  should  be  hanged  at  sight. 
The  worst  is  you  meet  them  travelling  more  often  than 
elsewhere  ;  they  have  come  into  some  money  probably, 
and  are  so  proud  of  it  they  think  themselves  little  gods." 

I  think  he  was  right,  for  when  we  pull  up  at  the  station, 
where  we  are  at  last  to  get  rid  of  our  tormentors,  I  happen 
to  remark  to  you  that  I  thought  some  restaurant  we  had 
been  to  in  Bombay  was  rather  expensive. 

"  Did  you  indeed  !  "  says  the  lady,  taking  the  remark 
as  if  addressed  to  herself.  "  'Orace  and  I  dined  there 
and  paid  double  that,  and  we  did  not  think  anything 
of  it." 

She  then  immediately  turns,  and  seeing  Ramaswamy 
standing  outside  mistakes  him  for  a  station-attendant, 
and  orders  him  to  tie  up  their  bedding.  He  looks  to  me 
for  orders.  I  nod  to  him  to  do  it,  and,  hat  in  hand,  make 
a  sweeping  bow — 

"  Only  too  glad  if  my  boy  can  be  of  any  service  to 
you.  Madam." 

I  tliink  I  also  got  my  own  back  ! 


A   BRASS   WORKER,   DELHI. 


CHAPTER    XVIII 


THE    CAPITAL   OF   INDIA 


ilpif' 


Delhi  ! 

If  you  draw  a  line  across  the  map  of  India  from  the 

north  to  the  south  at  the  greatest  length,  and  another 

from  east  to  west  at  the  greatest  breadth,  the  two  will 

form  a  cross  of  the  usual  shape,  with  the  cross-bar  high 

up.      Just    at    the    point    where    they    intersect    stands 

Delhi,  the  chief  city  in  India   since  the  King-Emperor's 

proclamation    in    1911.      Before    that    Calcutta    was    the 

capital,  but  Calcutta,   like  Bombay,   is  a  city  of  trade, 

and  has  practically  no  historic    memories.     Delhi  is  full 

of  the  romance  of  history.     In  the  Mutiny  the  question 

as  to  who  should  hold  it  was  of  the  greatest  importance, 

and  if  the  British  then  had   let  it  slip  from  their  grip, 

without  an  effort  to  retake  it,  their  power  in  India  would 

have  been  gone  for  ever. 

218 


THE  CAPITAL  OF  INDIA  219 

Now,  on  the  first  morning  tliat  we  are  here,  let  us  drive 
round  and  see  what  we  can  of  this  splendid  city.  First 
we  will  go  down  the  Chandni  Chauk,  the  main  street 
which  cuts  Delhi  into  two  parts.  It  is  immensely  wide 
and  lined  with  trees  of  a  good  size.  These  stand  on  each 
side  of  a  broad  walk  for  foot-passengers,  which  runs  down 
the  middle  of  tlie  street,  foreign  fashion,  and  makes  a 
popular  promenade.  The  gay  colours  of  the  natives' 
clothes  flash  in  and  out  of  the  shadows  of  the  trees  as  the 
people  pass  along,  each  on  his  own  errand.  On  one  side 
are  the  tram-lines  and  on  the  other  you  can  see  a  fast 
bullock-cart  with  pretty  little  white  trotting  bullocks 
as  dainty  in  their  own  way  as  antelopes,  and  as  different 
from  the  slow  yellow  ones  as  carriage-horses  are  from 
cart-horses.  There  are  on  both  sides  shops  for  jewels, 
for  sweetmeats,  for  the  richest  and  most  beautiful  silks 
and  ivory,  and  mingled  with  them  grocers'  shops  filled 
witli  tinned  stuffs  from  England,  and  others  with  every 
kind  of  modern  utensil  for  a  house.  Such  a  mixture  ! 
They  are  all  heavily  protected  against  the  sun  by  awnings, 
for  even  at  this  early  hour  of  the  morning  it  is  strong. 
At  the  end  of  the  street  is  a  tall  red  sandstone  tower  with 
a  clock  in  it.  In  the  distance  we  see  the  spire  of  an  English 
church,  and  down  that  opening  we  catch  sight  of  a 
Mohammedan  mosque.  The  shop  here  beside  us  is  a 
blaze  of  colour  with  Eastern  carpets  hung  out  like  banners  ; 
the  native  owner  squats  on  a  thing  like  a  wooden 
bedstead  by  his  door  and  chews  betel-nut,  which  makes 
his  tongue  and  lips  a  deep  red.  Next  door  is  a  vigor- 
ous agency  for  the  sale  of  sewing-machines  !  A  Hindu 
religious  fanatic,  smeared  with  ashes  and  with  liardly 
any  clothes  to  cover  his  lean  body,  walks  alicad  with 
eyes  unseeing,  and  at  the  same  moment  a  smart  motor- 
car stops  beside  us  and  tlie  voice  of  a  liigh-brod  English- 
woman says,   "  I   will  meet  you  at  the  Effingliams  in  an 


220       ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 


A  SHOP  IN   DELHI. 


hour,"  as  she  waves  a  greeting  to  her  companions  and 
steps  out. 

Hullo  !  There  is  a  band.  Round  the  corner  swings 
a  company  of  Ghurkas,  the  sturdy  little  men  who  helped 
England  to  overcome  the  mutineers.  They  look  very 
soldier-like  in  their  neat  holly-green  uniforms,  with  small 
round  caps  set  at  a  jaunty  angle  on  their  cropped  heads. 
They  are  hill  tribes  from  the  north,  and  in  appearance 
not  unlike  the  Japanese.  They  are  all  so  much  of  one 
size  you  could  run  a  ruler  along  their  heads.  Their 
swinging  stride  would  delight  a  soldier's  heart,  for  it  is 


THE  CAPITAL  OF  INDIA  221 

like  clockwork  in  its  precision.  They  are  born  soldiers, 
brave  and  easily  disciplined,  devoted  to  their  officers  and 
without  the  knowledge  of  fear.  They  have  faults,  of 
course.  The  Ghurka  is  apt  to  be  rather  a  gay  dog ;  he  gets 
drunk,  and  the  girls  he  loves  are  many,  but  he  is  of  the 
right  stuff,  and  his  officers  are  proud  of  him. 

I  was  talking  to  one  of  them  as  we  came  up  the  coast 
on  the  ship. 

"  Nothing  like  them  anywhere  else  in  the  world,"  he 
said.  "  They  take  to  drill  like  their  mother's  milk,  they 
thrive  on  it  and  discipline — the  slightest  fault  that  might 
be  overlooked  elsewhere  we  punish  severely.  They  like 
it  and  live  up  to  it.  You  could  lead  a  Ghurka  regiment 
anywhere  ;  fighting  is  their  pastime.  They  have  nothing 
in  common  with  the  slothful  races  of  Lower  India ;  they 
are  alert  and  vigorous  and  active  as  cats.  The  funniest 
thing  is  their  love  for  the  Highlanders  ;  if  a  Highland 
regiment  comes  up  the  two  meet  and  mingle  as  if  they 
were  brothers.  You'll  see  a  great  Highlander  in  his  kilt  and 
feather  bonnet  arm  in  arm  with  one  of  these  little  chaps, 
hobnobbing  as  if  they  had  known  each  other  all  their 
lives.  And  the  Ghurkas  won't  have  anything  to  say  to 
the  other  Indian  regiments ;  they  despise  them  all  except 
the  Sikhs — they  get  on  with  them  all  right." 

We  are  lucky,  for  the  Ghurkas  are  followed  by  a  com- 
pany of  Sikhs,  and  anything  less  like  the  Ghurkas  you 
could  hardly  imagine.  The  Sikhs  are  big  men  with  stern 
bearded  faces,  they  look  like  veterans  and  are  a  pleasant 
sight  in  their  scarlet  tunics  with  neat  gaitered  feet.  There 
were  many  Sikh  regiments  belonging  to  our  army  in 
the  black  days  of  the  Mutiny,  and  some  wavered,  but 
some  held  firm.  Had  it  not  been  for  the  Sikhs  things 
would  have  gone  badly  witli  us. 

Now  we  are  nearing  the  Lahore  Gate  and  you  can  see 
that  Dellii  is  a  walled  city.     The  walls  run  all  round  for 


222   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

six  miles,  and  are  backed  up  by  a  twenty-five  feet  ditch, 
so  that  it  is  a  tough  city  for  any  army  to  take.  The  gate 
itself  is  a  fine  building.  When  the  British  troops,  who 
varied  at  times  from  5000  to  10,000  men,  set  to  work  to 
attack  this  strong  city,  held  by  40,000  to  100,000  natives, 
many  of  them  trained  and  disciplined  soldiers,  taught  by 
the  very  men  against  whom  they  were  fighting,  it  seemed 
an  impossible  task.  The  audacity  of  it  !  This  gate 
was  one  of  the  hardest  of  all  to  break  through.  Four 
attacking  parties  had  been  sent  against  the  walls,  the 
other  three  got  in,  but  the  one  that  came  here  failed. 
Then  the  others  tried  to  work  their  way  through,  inside 
the  city,  to  capture  this  gate.  They  crept  along  the 
narrow  lane  running  inside  the  wall,  but  it  was  com- 
manded everywhere  from  the  heights  of  the  houses  by  the 
enemy,  who  poured  down  a  murderous  fire  into  it.  Again 
and  again  the  reckless  men,  who  determined  to  take  the 
gate,  stated  off  on  the  deadly  errand,  again  and  again  they 
were  wiped  off,  and  alas !  one  of  those  mortally  wounded 
was  General  John  Nicholson,  whose  utter  disregard  of 
danger  and  marvellous  understanding  of  the  native 
character  had  made  many  of  the  natives  look  on  him  as 
a  god  ! 

Now  we  are  outside  and  driving  up  to  the  ridge. 
Every  British  boy  and  girl  has  heard  of  the  ridge.  It 
played  a  great  part  in  the  Mutiny.  It  is  a  long  backbone 
of  hill  which  runs  close  up  to  the  city  at  one  end.  We  will 
leave  our  carriage  to  go  slowly  along  to  the  far  end,  where 
the  road  winds  up,  and  we  ourselves  will  scramble  up  at 
this  side  till  we  gain  the  Mutiny  Memorial,  a  Gothic  tower 
rising  in  many  stages  like  a  church  spire.  We  can  mount 
the  steps  inside  to  see  the  view.  It  is  worth  it,  for  miles 
and  miles  of  country  lie  spread  before  us  from  this  height. 

I  don't  want  to  go  into  details  of  history,  but  if  ever 
there  is  a  place  where  history  was  made  it  is  here.     On  this 


THE  CAPITAL  OF  INDIA  223 

ridge  for  months  was  camped  the  British  army,  including 
some  loyal  native  regiments,  and  all  the  time  they  never 
wavered  in  their  determination  to  retake  Delhi,  then  in 
the  hands  of  the  natives.  Our  men  could  not  be  said 
to  besiege  the  city,  because  to  besiege  means  to  sit  down 
all  round  a  place  and  prevent  the  inhabitants  from  getting 
supplies  from  outside  until  they  are  compelled  to  give  in 
or  are  too  weak  to  resist  the  entrance  of  the  besiegers  ;  we 
never  invested  Delhi  in  this  way.  There  were  not  enough 
men  even  to  attempt  it ;  the  natives  could  always  get 
supplies  into  the  city,  if  they  wanted,  from  the  river 
Jumna,  which  runs  past  the  other  side.  But  the  British 
sat  steadily  on  their  heights  in  grim  determination,  and 
never  lost  the  chance  of  a  move.  They  died  in  hundreds  ; 
remember  it  was  during  an  Indian  summer,  and  even 
under  the  best  conditions,  with  ice  and  punkahs  and 
shade,  the  European  finds  it  hard  to  get  through  the  hot 
weather.  Here  there  were  no  conveniences  and  very 
few  even  of  what  might  be  considered  necessaries.  The 
men  suffered  from  dysentery,  fever,  wounds,  and  sun- 
stroke, and  yet  they  carried  through  their  forlorn  hope 
triumphantly,  and  it  was  hardly  a  year  later  that  the 
Queen  of  England  was  proclaimed  Sovereign  of  India. 

In  that  great  plain,  which  stretches  far  as  eye  can 
see  on  the  other  side  of  the  ridge,  some  twenty  years 
later  another  proclamation  was  made,  and  the  Queen  was 
further  proclaimed  under  the  title  of  Empress  of  India; 
while  in  1911  her  grandson.  King  George,  himself  pro- 
claimed Delhi  as  the  capital  of  India  in  place  of  Calcutta. 

Over  tlie  screen  of  trees  you  can  see  beautiful  Delhi 
lying  within  its  hoary  walls.  You  can  see  the  towers  and 
steeples  and  minarets  and  domes  of  the  city.  Now  look 
the  other  way,  along  the  ridge.  That  great  pillar  close 
to  us  is  very  old ;  it  was  made  by  one  of  the  Hindu  kings, 
but  it  was  only  put  up  here  ten  years  after  the  Mutiny, 


224   HOUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

and  is  not  interesting.  That  white  house  farther  on  is  now 
a  hospital ;  it  was  once  a  private  house,  and  in  it  General 
Nicholson  died.  Look  on  again,  much  farther,  past  trees 
and  other  houses,  and  you  will  see  a  rounded  building 
with  turrets — that  is  the  Flagstaff  Tower  so  fiercely  held. 

Come  down  now  to  rejoin  the  carriage  and  we  will 
go  back  to  the  city  by  the  Kashmir  Gate.  Of  all  the 
gates  this  is  the  one  with  the  most  daring  story  of 
adventure  attached  to  it. 

When  the  British  had  resolved  to  make  an  assault  on 
the  city  they  detailed  four  parties,  as  I  said,  to  attack 
in  four  places.  One  of  them  was  this  gate.  The  other 
three  places  had  been  partially  broken  in  by  the  guns, 
and  there  was  a  chance  for  those  heroic  madmen  to  get 
through,  but  this  was  entire.  The  assaulting  party  had 
first  to  break  a  way  in  and  then  get  through. 

And  they  did  it  ! 

The  five  told  off  to  make  the  breach  were  Lieutenants 
Home  and  Salkeld,  and  Sergeants  Carmichael,  Burgess,  and 
Smith.  Some  carried  bags  of  gunpowder,  and  others  the 
fire  to  set  them  off.  It  was  daylight  when  they  ran 
towards  the  gate  across  a  single  plank  spanning  the  ditch,  so 
that  they  had  to  go  one  by  one  in  full  range  of  the  enemy's 
fire  from  the  walls.  The  marvel  is  that  any  lived  to  reach 
the  gate  alive.  When  one  fell  another  leaped  forward 
to  carry  on  his  task.  The  bags  were  flung  down,  and  those 
who  placed  them  tumbled  back  into  the  ditch,  while  their 
comrades  set  the  powder  alight  and  rolled  down  too. 
Out  of  the  whole  party  only  Home  and  Smith  survived. 
The  wicket  of  the  gate  was  burst  open  by  the  explosion, 
and  the  storming  party,  also  crossing  that  single  plank, 
made  for  it,  got  inside,  and  beat  back  the  foe,  meeting 
their  comrades,  who  had  burst  in  at  other  points,  inside. 

The  tale  of  "  how  Horatius  kept  the  bridge  "  pales 
before  this  amazing  pluck. 


A  CARPET  SHOP,   DELHI. 


THE  CAPITAL  OF  INDIA  225 

We  must  get  out  and  look  at  the  gate  where  this 
actually  happened  not  sixty  years  ago. 

There  are  two  wide  arches  in  the  shattered  wall,  and 
the  coping  above  is  half  gone ;  it  remains  unrestored  just 
as  it  was  that  day.  On  a  slab  is  an  inscription  telling  of 
this  noble  deed  when  men  died  for  their  country  without 
hesitation. 

Close  by  is  the  cemetery  where  General  Nicholson  is 
buried.  You  can  see  his  statue  in  the  city  raised  high 
on  a  pedestal.  He  stands  with  bared  head  and  drawn 
sword.  But  Nicholson's  is  not  the  only  name  immortal- 
ised by  the  Mutiny — there  are  the  two  brothers,  John  and 
Henry  Lawrence,  Outram  and  Havelock,  Hodson,  Sir 
Colin  Campbell,  and  many  another  name  which  is  a  house- 
hold word  in  England.  These  men,  in  those  days  of  fierce 
fighting  and  desperate  stress,  made  history  and  wTote 
themselves  in  its  pages  by  deeds  that  still  cause  every 
British  boy's  heart  to  ring  within  him.  We  have  passed 
througli  the  Kashmir  Gate,  and  here,  on  one  side  of  the 
street,  is  a  battered  bit  of  arcade,  another  Mutiny  memorial. 
In  the  early  days,  just  at  the  first  outbreak,  when  no  one 
realised  what  was  going  to  happen,  the  mutineers  marched 
on  Delhi.  This  bit  of  wall  was  part  of  the  powder  magazine, 
then  in  cliarge  of  nine  men.  They  defended  it  against 
a  swarming  army  of  Sepoys,  as  the  native  soldiers  were 
called,  and  when  they  found  that  they  could  not  hold  it 
in  spite  of  their  desperate  defence,  they  calmly  blew  up 
the  powder  magazine,  and  themselves  with  it,  to  prevent 
its  falling  into  the  hands  of  the  mutineers  and  being  used 
against  their  kinsmen.  The  most  incredible  part  of  the 
whole  story  is  that  three  of  those  who  blew  up  the  magazine 
actually  escaped  with  their  lives  ! 

We  are  now  approaching  the  fort  and  palace,  the  kernel 
of  the  city,  which  it  is  best  to  see  after  the  ridge. 

It  is  a  fine  building  that  faces  us,  with  an  ornamental 
15 


226   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

arcade  running  along  the  upper  part.  We  pass  in  on  foot 
under  the  gateway  and  see  another,  a  Hall  of  Public 
Audience,  with  red  sandstone  pillars.  Inside  is  a  great 
throne  of  white  marble,  inlaid  with  mosaic  work,  where  the 
old  kings  of  Delhi  used  to  sit  and  listen  to  their  ministers. 
The  last  of  this  line  w^as  still  living  in  the  palace  when  the 
Mutiny  broke  out.  He  was  a  poor  specimen,  given  up  to 
indulgence  and  sloth ;  but  the  British  had  left  him  the 
state  of  royalty  and  all  his  wealth  until  the  rising  made 
it  impossible  any  more.  His  sons  and  grandson,  who, 
when  the  Mutiny  broke  out,  themselves  actually  murdered 
and  tortured  helpless  English  women  and  children,  and 
watched  their  agonies  as  "  sport,"  were  rightly  shot  out  of 
hand,  and  the  old  king  became  a  prisoner. 

Coming  out  of  this  hall  our  eyes  are  caught  by  a  gleam 
of  something  lustrously  white  against  a  sky  which  is  now 
burning  blue.  This  is  another  Hall  of  Audience,  the 
Diwan-i-Khas,  more  beautiful  than  the  first.  It  is  of 
white  marble,  which,  in  this  clear  atmosphere,  remains 
white,  and  it  is  richly  ornamented  with  gilt.  It  is  in  the 
form  of  a  square  cloister  or  arcade,  with  a  little  dome  at 
each  corner,  and  if  we  stand  inside  and  look  out  between 
the  white  pillars  to  see  the  lawns  and  the  trees  in  the  old 
palace  gardens,  we  shall  find  it  difficult  to  realise  that  this 
place  of  beauty  and  peace  was  ever  a  scene  of  fierce  revolt. 
The  rest  of  the  palace  is  now  used  partly  as  a  barracks. 

When  the  British,  having  beaten  their  way  through 
the  narrow  streets,  and  swept  them  clear  of  the  foe,  arrived 
here  on  that  fateful  day,  the  14th  September  1857,  they 
found  the  palace  deserted,  except  for  a  stray  sentry, 
holding  his  position  with  sublime  courage.  The  rest  had 
fled, — thousands  flying  from  hundreds, — and  well  they 
might,  for  the  British  troops  were  wrought  up  by  the 
cruelties  of  the  Sepoys  to  a  sublime  and  just  fury  that  made 
them  seem  like  avenging  angels.     It  is  said  in  one  place  that 


THE  CAPITAL  OF  INDIA 


227 


^^j'^^s^'Ufe. 


THE   KUTAB    MINAR. 


the  sternness  of  the  expression  of  the  Sikhs'  faces  made 
the  wretched  Sepoys  fly  witliout  a  shot  being  fired.  The 
palace  area  is  full  of  beautiful  buildings,  and  we  shall  see 
many  more  specimens  of  this  kind  of  Oriental  architecture 
when  we  visit  the  mosques  in  the  town  this  afternoon. 

So  much  is  there  to  see,  indeed,  that  it  is  not  until  the 
next  day  we  can  ride  out  for  a  sight  beyond  the  walls. 

Pull  up  your  horse  and  look  ahead.  Do  you  see  that 
huge  column  rising  skyward  from  the  plain  ?  It  is  called 
the  Kutab  Minar  and  is  two  hundred  and  forty  feet  high. 
As  we  get  under  it  and  gaze  up  at  it  it  seems  to  tower  into 
the  very  sky.  It  is  forty-seven  feet  across  the  base  and 
narrows  to  the  top,  it  is  fluted  all  the  way  down,  and  has 
frills  in  stone  around  it  here  and  there — truly  a  curious 


228      ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

sight  !  There  are  three  hundred  and  seventy-nine  steps 
to  chmb  to  the  top ;  do  you  want  to  try  them  ?  If  so,  I 
will  wait  here  and  hold  your  horse.  You  shake  your  head. 
Wise  boy  ! 

There  are  other  buildings  around,  parts  of  a  mosque, 
and  inside  is  an  iron  pillar  said  to  be  one  of  the  oldest 
things  in  India.  The  Kutab  Minar  is  supposed  to  have 
been  built  about  the  reign  of  our  King  John,  though  there 
are  some  who  put  it  further  back ;  the  pillar  is  considerably 
older  than  that,  but  it  cannot  compare  in  antiquity  with 
many  things  we  have  seen  in  Egypt.  After  the  Hindu 
kings  came  a  line  of  Moghul  or  Mohammedan  kings  who 
swept  the  others  away ;  of  these  the  old  king  of  Delhi, 
living  at  the  time  of  the  Mutiny,  was  the  last,  and  it  is 
supposed  that  it  was  at  the  beginning  of  the  rule  of  the 
Moghul  kings  that  the  Kutab  Minar  was  erected. 

Notice  that  brown-faced,  scantily  clad  boy,  who  keeps 
beckoning  and  shouting  ""  Sahib."  We  follow  him  as  he 
leads  us  to  a  well,  and  almost  before  we  realise  what  he  is 
doing  he  goes  down  head  first,  a  drop  of  at  least  eighty  feet, 
into  the  black  water  below.  There  is  a  tradition  that  the 
water  of  this  well  cannot  drown  anyone.  At  anyrate  it 
hasn't  rid  the  world  of  this  rascal,  for  here  he  comes  shaking 
the  water  off  his  oily  body  and  grinning.  He  has  earned 
his  bakshish  ! 

As  we  are  in  Delhi  for  several  days  more  we  can  go 
at  our  leisure  through  the  bazaars,  which  really  are  well 
worth  seeing.  We  choose  a  late  afternoon,  when  there  is 
no  hurry  and  we  can  watch  the  people  in  their  daily  life 
and  get  a  glimpse  into  the  real  India. 

The  streets  are  narrow,  mere  passages  mostly,  and  lined 
by  the  open-air  stalls  or  wooden  sheds  which  are  what 
the  native  understands  by  shops.  A  marvellous  array  of 
slippers  greets  us  first,  for  all  of  one  trade  tend  to  congre- 
gate together,  a  curious  custom  and  one  which  you  would 


THE  CAPITAL  OF  INDIA 


229 


think  was  not  very  good  for  trade,  though  convenient  to  the 

customer.     There  are  shppers  of   all  colours  from  scarlet 

to  brown  ;    you  would  never  have  thought  they  could  be 

so    decorative.     They    hang    in    bunches,    festoons,    and 

chains.      Every   man  here   wears   slippers   when   he   puts 

anything  at  all  on  his  feet.     Boots  would  be  of  no  use  to 

him,  for  lie  has  so  often  to  shuffle  off  his  foot-gear  in  a  hurry. 

Modern     streets, 

with    tlieir    stones 

and  liability  to  nails 

and    broken    glass 

and     other     sharp 

things,    has   led  to 

the    native    taking 

to    strong     soled 

slippers     when     he 

walks     about     his 

business. 

There  is  a  sizzl- 
ing and  a  delicious 
smell  from  the  next 
shop,  and  peeping 
in  we  see  a  huddled 
form  crouched  over 
a  pot  placed  on  a 
few  red  embers  ;  it 
might  be  a  witch 
stirring  potions  and    "^  ^^'^^  "^^°  foremost  into  the  black  water. 

muttering  incantations.  But  it  is  only  a  native  looking 
after  a  pan  full  of  Indian  corn  popping  out  in  the  most 
fluffy  and  tempting  way.  I  have  often  popped  it  on 
a  shovel  over  the  school  fire.  A  native  soldier,  who 
is  passing,  stops  and  bargains  for  a  handful,  and  carries 
it  off,  eating  it  as  he  goes  ;  when  he  has  had  enough 
he   will    stow    the    rest    in    his    turban,    which    serves   as 


230      ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

his  pocket,  his  private  trunk,  and  play-box  all  in  one. 
This  is  the  food  he  best  thrives  on,  so  his  wants  are 
easily  supplied.  A  tailor  sitting  cross-legged  on  his  board 
attracts  us  next ;  he  is  a  good-looking  old  man  with  a  grey 
beard  and  kindly  eyes  blinking  behind  horn  spectacles. 
His  garments  are  of  the  dark  red  colour  seen  sometimes 
in  certain  parts  of  the  country  when  the  earth  is  ploughed. 
His  turban  is  a  might}^  erection  of  green  arranged  with 
much  dignity.  You  would  think  it  hot  and  heavy  to 
carry  all  those  yards  of  stuff  on  your  head,  but  the 
habit  has  probably  arisen  to  protect  the  head  from  sun- 
stroke. 

"  He  is  a  dhurzi,  Sahib,"  says  Ramaswamy,  who  has 
followed  us  to  interpret  if  we  want.  "  He  making  all 
clothes  for  mem-sahibs.  Very  clever  man  and  not  asking 
too  much  money." 

Yes,  a  dhurzi  will  come  and  sit  outside  on  a  verandah 
and  work  by  the  day  and  copy  any  garment  you  give  him ; 
sewing  is  a  man's  job  here,  and  not  a  woman's. 

Then  we  see  a  sweetmeat  shop  with  a  crowd  outside 
and  a  cloud  of  flies  bearing  them  company.  While  we 
look,  many  of  the  flies  crawl  slowly  over  the  sticky, 
syrupy  stuff  which  has  just  come  from  the  pan,  and 
get  their  legs  entangled  in  it,  but  it  doesn't  seem  to 
hinder  the  sale,  which  goes  on  cheerfully.  There  are 
sweets  in  rings  and  coils  and  fantastic  shapes.  A  child 
gets  a  large  pink  slab  for  two  pice,  and  ten  pice  go  to 
the  penny,  that  is  to  say,  the  anna,  so  it  is  not  dear. 
The  buyer  tucks  the  sticky  stuff  up  in  the  corner  of  her 
garment  and  ties  it  carefully  into  a  knot  before  starting 
homeward. 

Standing  a  little  aloof  from  the  crowd  and  looking 
at  them  disdainfully  is  a  small  boy  with  a  twisted  cord 
slung  across  his  left  shoulder.  "  He  be  Brahman,  Sahib," 
says  Ramaswamy  timidly.     "  Very  proud  and  not  eating 


THE  CAPITAL  OF  INDIA  2:;i 


3 


anything  dirty  peoples  touch,  just  having  had  cord." 
Standing  where  he  is,  so  as  not  to  approach  nearer  to  the 
lad,  he  asks  a  few  questions,  which  are  answered  curtly 
and  proudly,  with  a  glance  thrown  across  at  us  as  much 
as  if  to  say  they  wouldn't  have  been  answered  at  all 
except  for  our  presence. 

"  Just  two,  three  days  he  been  made  Brahman,"  ex- 
plains Ramaswamy. 

But  he  was  born  a  Brahman,  of  course,  and  what 
Ramaswamy  means  is  that  up  till  then  he  was  counted  a 
child  and  could  play  and  run  about  with  other  children 
without  responsibilities ;  now  that  he  has  been  invested 
with  the  cord  he  has  taken  up  his  birthright  and  is  of  the 
highest  caste,  the  caste  from  which  the  priests  come  ; 
he  may  not  eat  anything  prepared  by  a  lower  caste,  or 
even  let  others  touch  him,  for  he  is  set  apart,  and  very 
proud  of  his  new  dignity  in  spite  of  the  many  difficulties 
it  carries  with  it. 

The  child  who  stands  staring  at  us  with  her  shawl  over 
her  head  is  a  little  girl  about  the  same  age  as  the  boy. 
She  has  been  grinding  corn  between  two  stones  and  is  a 
very  thin  and  miserable  little  wretch.  Her  clothes  are 
rags  and  there  are  no  bangles  on  her  little  brown  ankles. 
Ramaswamy  tells  us  she  is  a  widow  !  That  child  ?  Slie 
has  probably  never  even  seen  the  boy-husband  who  was 
so  unlucky  as  to  die  ;  but  because  he  did  she  is  scorned  by 
everyone.  The  worst  life  in  all  India  is  that  of  a  widow. 
She  has  no  ornaments,  no  amusements,  and  is  treated 
worse  than  a  slavey  in  a  boarding-house,  and  for  her 
there  is  no  escape. 

Right  out  in  the  street  sits  a  man  weaving  a  web  of 
wonderful  colours ;  he  throws  the  shuttles,  carrying 
different  coloured  threads,  across  and  across,  without 
seeming  to  look  at  them,  and  all  the  time  the  web  is  grow- 
ing into  an  intricate  pattern  under  his  fingers.     So  his 


232   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 


A  POTTER. 


father  wove,  and  his  grandfather  and  great-grandfather. 
All  these  crafts  run  in  families.  A  little  farther  on  is  a 
potter  spinning  a  wheel  with  his  feet,  while  the  soft  lump 
of  dull-coloured  clay  takes  shape  beneath  his  clever 
thumb  as  it  races  round.  It  seems  to  grow  and  swell 
and  curve  exquisitely  as  if  it  were  a  living  thing.  There 
are  few  sights  more  fascinating  than  a  potter  at  work. 
You  have  often  heard  of  the  "  potter's  thumb,"  I  expect  ? 
The  thumb  grows  broad  and  flat  and  capable,  because  it  is 
the  chief  instrument  with  which  the  potter  works.  On  the 
floor  beside  him  lie  many  of  the  clay  jars  of  different  sizes 
and  shapes  ready  for  the  baking,  others  are  being  baked. 
There  is  always  a  good  sale  for  them,  and  a  potter  in  India 
flourishes  exceedingly.     Even  now  there  is  a  woman  passing 


THE  CAPITAL  OF  INDIA  233 

us  with  a  pot  balanced  on  her  head  and  a  child  on  her  hip. 
She  swings  along  in  the  dust  with  a  graceful  gliding  step, 
for  she  has  been  used  to  carrying  things  on  her  head 
almost  from  babyhood.  These  pots  are  brittle  enough 
and  frequently  get  broken,  and  even  the  poorest  house- 
holds must  have  a  supply  of  them.  But  what  helps  the 
potter  to  make  a  living  more  than  anything  else  is  the 
custom  that  when  a  death  occurs  in  a  family,  or  a  new 
life  arrives  in  it,  all  the  pots  must  be  broken  and  new  ones 
bought  !  It  is  a  symbol  of  the  life  that  has  gone  out  and 
the  new  life  beginning. 

In  church  you  must  have  heard  those  grandly  poetic 
lines — 

"  Or  ever  the  silver  cord  be  loosed,  or  the  golden  bowl 
be  broken,  or  the  pitcher  be  broken  at  the  fountain,  or 
the  wheel  broken  at  the  cistern. 

"  Then  shall  the  dust  return  to  the  earth  as  it  was  :  and 
the  spirit  shall  return  unto  God  who  gave  it." 

Pass  on  to  the  silversmiths'  quarter.  Any  of  these 
men  can  do  fine  and  beautiful  work  with  very  few  tools. 
If  you  want  anything  made  you  pay  them  in  a  queer  way. 
For  the  finished  article  is  put  in  the  scales  and  weighed 
against  rupees  thrown  into  the  other  balance,  and  when 
the  rupees  equal  it  then  you  give  them  to  the  work- 
man, together  with  so  many  annas  in  each  rupee  for  his 
work. 

How  can  we  ever  take  in  all  this  varied  life,  so  different 
from  the  life  we  are  used  to  ?  The  women  sitting  on  the 
balconies  above,  the  pariah  dogs  prowling  for  scraps 
below,  the  druggists  and  spice-sellers,  the  fruit  and  vege- 
table stalls  ?  Over  it  all  is  that  peculiar,  scented,  musty 
bazaar  smell,  made  up  of  saffron  and  wood  and  dirt,  with 
which  we  are  already  so  familiar. 

Wonderful  Delhi  !  A  city  teeming  with  myriads  of 
men  of    many   races    and    customs,   living    side  by   side. 


234   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

Successor  of  seven  cities  which  have  stood  here  or  here- 
about in  successive  ages.  From  the  earhest  days  a  place 
of  consequence,  a  place  to  be  reckoned  with,  and  now,  by 
the  proclamation  of  the  King-Emperor,  the  first  city  in 
the  land,  as  it  is  already  the  centre  ! 


)    ( 


CLUMSY  BOATS  WITH  THATCHED  ROOFS. 


CHAPTER    XIX 


TO    THE    DEATH  I 


A  CURIOUS  building,  isn't  it  ?  I  mean  that  one  right  in 
front  of  us.  It  is  something  Hke  a  very  large  and  many- 
sided  crown,  built  of  stone  and  set  upon  the  ground. 
The  sides  are  pierced  with  windows  of  the  same  sort  as 
those  seen  in  churches,  and  on  each  of  the  angles  there  is 
a  little  pinnacle.  It  rises  up  serenely  against  the  soft  blue 
sky  of  this  early  morning.  We  are  far  from  Delhi  now, 
having  arrived  at  Cawnpore  late  last  night,  and  we  have 
come  out  here  first  thing  this  morning.  It  is  only  seven 
now. 

Cawnpore  !  The  Mutiny  !  Those  two  things  rush 
simultaneously  into  the  mind,  for  Cawnpore  is  associated 
witli  the  most  awful  scenes  of  the  Mutiny,  and  no  Briton 
can  ever  tliink  of  it  without  those  scenes  flashing  before 
him. 

Come  nearer  and  pass  inside  the  crown  and  you  will 


236      ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

see  in  the  centre  a  great  angel  of  the  usual  sort,  with  high 
sweeping  wings,  holding  palm  branches  folded  across  its 
breast.     It  marks  the  Well  of  Cawnpore. 

You  know  that  story,  of  course,  and  yet,  as  we  sit  here, 
on  the  very  spot  where  it  all  happened,  with  the  Indian 
sky  above  us,  we  cannot  help  recalling  it  once  more.  In 
telling  it  I  shall  not  dwell  on  the  agonies  and  bloodshed 

which  have  hallowed  this 
place  for  ever ;  they  are 
done  with,  and  those  who 
suffered  have  been  at  rest 
for  nearly  sixty  years.  The 
deep  peace  around  us  overlies 
their  torments  and  forbids  us 
to  think  too  much  of  the 
darker  side  of  the  picture. 
But  the  heroism,  the  courage, 
the  indomitable  spirit  that 
animated  these  men  and 
women,  these  things  live  for 
ever,  rising  up  from  the 
earth  in  a  flood  of  inspira- 
tion for  all  who  pass  over 
the  place. 

There  are  certain  little 
animals  called  Tasmanian 
devils,  who  do  not  know 
what  it  is  to  give  in  ;  they  die 
fighting  and  attack  their  persecutors  as  long  as  one  limb 
hangs  on  to  another ;  of  such  stuff  were  the  people 
besieged  at  Cawnpore.  They  were  encamped  here  on  a 
wretched  piece  of  flat  ground,  quite  open  except  for  a 
low  mud  wall,  which  anyone  could  have  jumped  over 
easily.  There  were  about  nine  hundred  and  fifty  of  them 
altogether,  some  soldiers,  some  civilians,  some  women  and 


THE  WELL  OF  CAWNPORE. 


TO  THE  DEATH! 


237 


children  and  a  few  native    soldiers  who  remained  loyal. 

Outside  were  unending  hordes  of  natives  well  armed  and 

well  trained,  because  the  greater  part  were  the  men  of 

the  native  regiments  who  had  mutinied,  known  by  the 

name  of   Sepoys.     A  few  huts  built   of  thin  brick   were 

all  the  shelter   the   beleaguered    people    had  ;   they  were 

constantly  under  a  shrieking  storm  of 

bullets    and    shells,    and    were    ringed 

around    by    steel.     You    would    have 

said  two  days  at  the  outside  would  see 

the  end  of  it,  and  that  then  the  black 

hordes   would    sweep   clean    over   that 

field,    having  wiped    out   the   garrison 

completely ;     but    so    amazing    is    the 

power  of  pluck  that  those  within  held 

the    hordes    at    bay   for   twenty-three 

days  !     They  not  only  prevented  any 

single  Sepoy  from  getting  inside  alive, 

but    they    constantly    sallied    out    and 

acted  on  the   defensive,  burning  their 

enemies'  defences  and  killing  scores  of 

them,  while  thousands  fled  in  confusion 

before  them  !     The  sublime  impudence 

of   it  !     And    all    the   time   they   were 

short    of    food  ;    women   and    children 

were  laid  in  holes  in  the  earth  covered 

wit  1 1  planks  to  protect  them  from  the 

bullets.     And  water — ah,  that  was  the 

worst — water  had  to  be  fetched   from  a  well  which  was 

quite  exposed  in  the  midst  of  the  encampment,  and  the 

Sepoys   kept    up   an   incessant   fire   on   it.     We  are   now 

beside  it,  this  well  where  water  was  drawn  at  the  price 

of   blood,   and    yet  volunteers  were   never  lacking.     The 

very  ground  our  feet  now  rest  upon  was  ringed  around 

with  the  bodies  of  those  who  laid  down  their  lives  for  the 


AN  INDIAN  OFFICER  OF 
THE   CAMEL   CORPS. 


238   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

women  and  children.  There  was  another  well,  a  little 
distance  off,  now  marked  by  an  lona  cross,  and  to  this, 
under  cover  of  night,  the  British  conveyed  their  dead  for 
burial. 

Read  the  inscription  that   circles  round  the  wall   of 
the  well  now  in  front  of  us  : — 

"  Sacred  to  the  perpetual  memory  of  a  great 
company  of  Christian  people,  chiefly  women  and 
children,  who  near  this  spot  were  cruelly  murdered 
by  the  followers  of  the  rebel.  Nana  Dhundu  Pant  of 
Bithur,  and  cast,  the  dying  with  the  dead,  into  the 
well  below,  on  the  fifteenth  day  of  July  1857.' 


55 


Yes,  we  have  not  come  to  the  end  yet  ! 

Wlien  the  bloodthirsty  tyrant,  better  known  as  Nana 
Sahib,  found  he  could  not  crack  this  nut,  when  he  realised 
that  his  whole  army  was  held  at  bay  by  a  few  hundreds 
of  determined  spirits^ — there  were  only  three  hundred 
fighting  men  to  begin  with,  and  they  were  daily  killed — 
he  made  terms  with  them,  promising  to  send  the  survivors 
safely  in  boats  down  the  river  if  they  would  give  in. 
Desperate  as  they  were,  without  food  or  water,  without 
shade  from  the  killing  glare  of  the  Indian  summer  sun, 
the  brave  men  held  their  heads  high  and  only  accepted 
on  condition  they  marched  out  under  arms  with  so  many 
rounds  of  ammunition  to  each  man. 

This  was  granted. 

Now  leave  the  well  and  follow  that  heroic  band  who 
went  down  to  the  river  on  that  blazing  day  some  sixty 
years  ago.  It  is  about  a  mile  away.  The  little  garrison 
now  numbered  some  four  hundred  and  fifty  all  told,  the 
half  of  what  they  had  been  three  weeks  before.  Blackened 
with  the  sun  and  smoke  and  gunpowder,  so  as  to  rival  the 
Sepoys  in  complexion,  tattered  and  worn  and  wounded,  but 
yet  with  courage  undaunted,  they  went  down  to  the  river. 


TO  THE  DEATH! 


239 


There  is  another  building  here,  an  arcade  on  the  banks 
facing  the   placid   stream;   it  has  a  tower  behind  and  a 
broad  flight  of  stairs,  a  ghaut,  as  it  is  called,  flanked  by 
wafls   running   down   to   the   margin.     But   on   that   day 
long  ago  there  was  nothing  of  this,  nothing  but  a  number 
of  clumsy  boats  with  thatched  roofs  to  keep  the  sun  off, 
native  fashion.     As  the  EngHsh  took  their  places  in  them, 
suddenly  a  bugle  rang  out,  and 
at  that  signal  the  native  boat- 
men sprang   from   their  places 
and    splashed   ashore;   up  rose 
an   army  of   Sepoys   from   the 
scrub  on  the  banks,  and  death 
was  rained   on  the  victims  of 
the  blackest  deed  of  treachery 
ever   written   in   the  annals  of 
the   world.     Standing    here    on 
tliese  smooth  steps  which  mark 
the  place  it  is  difficult  even  to 
picture   that    scene    of    horror. 
Many     were     killed     outright, 
many    mortally    w^ounded    and 
torn,  one  hundred  and  twenty- 
five   were    dragged    ashore  and 
brutally    killed    afterwards  ;   it 
was  they  wlio  were  thrown  into 
the  well ;   but  three  boats  got 
away  down   the  stream.     Two 
went  ashore  and  all  the  occupants  were  killed  by  the  merci- 
less brutes  who  lined  the  banks.     The  other  had  men  in  it, 
men  who  were  filled  with  a  madness  of  wrath  that  knew  no 
bounds.    In  spite  of  their  own  condition,  in  spite  of  the  odds 
against  them,  they  leaped  like  tigers  on  tlie  foe  whenever 
they  got  the  chance.     They  were  followed  by  the  natives, 
who  fired  on  them  repeatedly  from  a  safe  distance,  and 


NANA   SAHIB. 


240      ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

again  and  again  the  dead  had  to  be  cast  into  the  stream. 
Yet  when  a  Sepoy  boat  ran  against  a  sandbank,  twenty 
or  so  of  the  powder-blackened  EngHshmen  sprang  out  into 
the  water  and  raced  with  fury  to  kill  them,  though  the  boat 
contained  three  times  their  own  number.  It  is  good  to 
read  how  they  wiped  out  all  but  those  who  escaped  in 
terror  by  swimming  !  At  last  only  fourteen  of  the  English 
were  left  alive  and  they  got  hopelessly  penned  in  a  back- 
water. Tliese  men  charged  the  army  of  Sepoys  on  the 
banks  and  made  them  keep  their  distance.  They  secured 
themselves  in  a  tiny  temple  on  the  margin  of  the  river 
and  killed  all  who  approached.  At  length,  seeing  prepara- 
tions made  for  blowing  them  up  with  gunpowder,  they 
charged  out ;  seven  who  could  swim  made  for  the  river, 
the  other  six  (one  was  dead)  rushed  straight  at  the  mass 
of  Sepoys  and  dealt  death  on  every  side  before  they  fell. 

Four  of  the  seven  eventually  outdistanced  their  per- 
secutors and  reached  safety,  and  then,  alas !  one  died. 

It  is  good  to  hear  that  an  avenging  army  descended 
on  Cawnpore,  though  too  late  to  save  the  remnant  of  the 
captives.  The  Sepoys  were  smitten  hip  and  thigh,  and 
thousands  paid  with  their  lives  for  those  other  lives  they 
had  spared  not.  Nana  Sahib  fled  and  was  never  heard 
of  again.  Stripped  of  all  his  wealth  and  luxury  he  must 
have  skulked  from  place  to  place  like  a  plague-tainted 
rat,  till  death  took  him  and  he  went  to  meet  the  souls  of 
the  hundreds  he  had  treacherously  and  brutally  massacred. 

It  is  finished  !  The  price  has  been  paid  ;  the  native 
has  learnt  that  it  is  not  well  to  meddle  with  white  men. 
And  we  must  not  forget  that  hundreds  of  natives  remained 
faithful,  and  gave  their  lives  to  save  those  of  our  fellow- 
countrymen. 

As  we  wander  back  through  the  park  in  the  sunshine, 
now  growing  fierce  and  strong,  toward  the  Memorial  Church 
showing  above  the  trees,  the  chief  feeling  is  not  of  bitter- 


TO  THE  DEATH!  241 

ness  but  of  pride.  That  little  band,  whose  courage  was 
unquenchable  and  untamable,  were  not  picked  men  and 
women,  but  just  an  ordinary  crowd  made  up  of  soldiers 
and  civilians  and  their  wives  and  children,  yet  not  one  act 
of  selfishness  or  cowardice  remains  to  stain  their  record. 
"WTien  the  last  extremity  came,  sloth  and  indifference  and 
selfishness  dropped  off  like  sloughs  and  only  devotion  and 
bravery  shone  out.  It  is  grand  to  belong  to  a  race  which 
holds  these  qualities  as  the  highest  good. 

One  incident  more.  When  the  tyrant  had  brought  his 
handful  of  captives  up  from  the  river  he  found  there 
were  a  few  men  among  them.  So  before  he  started  to- 
massacre  the  women  and  babies  he  sent  for  the  men  to 
come  forth  to  instant  death ;  he  dared  not  leave  even  half 
a  dozen  men  of  the  untamable  breed,  who  are  "  little 
used  to  lie  down  at  the  bidding  of  any  man,"  among  them, 
even  unarmed. 

The  men  came  forth,  and  among  them  was  a  lad  of 
fourteen ;  he  was  only  a  year  older  than  you,  but  he 
preferred  to  be  reckoned  among  the  men  rather  than  to 
hide  behind  the  women's  petticoats.  He  chose  a  soldier's 
death  and  he  had  it,  for  he  fell  pierced  by  bullets  with  the 
rest. 


16 


BATHING   IN  THE  GANGES. 


CHAPTER    XX 


A   CITY   OF   PRIESTS 


Surely  you  have  never  before  seen  anything  hke  this, 
there  is  nothing  to  be  seen  Hke  it  anywhere  else  ! 

We  are  at  Benares,  the  sacred  city  of  the  Hindus, 
which  stands  on  their  sacred  river,  the  Ganges.  We  have 
taken  a  boat  and  have  floated  out  into  the  current,  and 
are  looking  up  with  amazement  at  the  spectacle  before 
us.  The  city  rises  high  on  the  banks,  and  towers  and 
minarets  and  domes  of  a  curious  long-drawn-out  shape, 
glittering  in  the  sun  like  gold,  arise  out  of  the  flat  roofs. 
Down  to  the  river  at  every  opening  between  the  houses 
stretch  stairways,  as  you  know  called  ghauts,  some  broad 
and  some  narrow.  We  judge  that  they  are  there,  though 
we  cannot  see  the  steps,  for  every  inch  is  covered  by  a 
moving  mass  of  people,  clothed  in  the  colours  of  the 
rainbow.  You  have  often  turned  a  kaleidoscope  over 
and  over,  and  watched  the  bits  of  coloured  glass  falling 


242 


A  CITY  OF  PRIESTS  243 

into  strange  patterns.  Half  shut  your  eyes  and  make  a 
tube  of  your  hands  and  see  if  this  doesn't  remind  you  of 
a  kaleidoscope. 

Thousands  and  thousands  of  people  are  passing  and 
repassing  up  and  down,  or  sitting  on  every  scrap  of 
available  building.  They  flow  out  over  the  steps  and 
down  into  the  water  itself.  They  are  standing  there 
knee-deep,  waist-deep,  shoulder-deep,  with  hardly  any 
clothes  on  their  glistening  brown  and  yellow  bodies, 
diligently  throwing  the  water  over  themselves,  washing 
their  long,  straight,  black  hair  in  it,  or  even  drinking  it  ! 

Ah,  what  is  that  gruesome  object  ?  Take  care,  don't 
touch  it  as  it  floats  by ;  it  looks  like  a  bit  of  charred  stick, 
but  indeed  it  is  half- burnt  human  bones  ! 

We  have  already  seen  a  few  sacred  rivers  in  our 
wanderings — the  gigantic  Nile,  the  tiny  Jordan,  and  now 
we  see  the  Ganges,  which  in  size  comes  between  the  two, 
being  one  thousand  four  hundred  and  fifty-five  miles  in 
length.  Quite  a  respectable-sized  river  that  !  The  Hindus 
regard  it  with  such  reverence  that  they  count  bathing  in 
it  a  religious  act,  and  when  they  die  their  one  desire  is 
to  be  burned  beside  it  so  that  their  bones  may  be  cast 
into  its  waters.  If  we  row  a  little  way  up  we  shall  see 
this  ceremony  at  the  Burning  Ghauts.  There  are  funeral 
pyres  of  wood  where  the  relatives  are  carrying  out  the 
last  offices  for  the  dead.  Some  prowling  pariah  dogs,  of 
the  lean  yellow  breed,  and  a  few  impertinent  crows  are 
hovering  about,  hoping  that  some  scraps  may  fall  to 
their  share.  The  dead  bodies  are  rolled  up  in  white  and 
red  cloth  and  lie  witli  their  feet  in  the  blessed  water 
awaiting  their  burning. 

Men  are  bringing  logs  of  wood  to  pile  upon  the  pyres, 
others  are  poking  about  in  the  ashes  of  the  last  burned 
to  see  if  maybe  an  anklet  or  ear-ring  has  fallen  off  and 
may  be  scavenged. 


244   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

The  red  flames  rise  and  lick  up  the  sides,  while  the 
enveloping  smoke  wreathes  around  the  corpse.  Re- 
member that  at  one  time  the  miserable  widow  of  the 
dead  man  would  have  mounted  that  gruesome  throne  and 
be  sitting  there  to  be  burnt  alive.  This  is  forbidden  by 
law  now,  as  indeed  it  was  forbidden  by  some  of  the  wisest 
of  the  Indian  kings  too,  only  until  the  British  came  there 
never  was  any  power  strong  enough  to  enforce  it. 

Benares  is  the  religious  capital  of  India ;  it  takes  the 
place  that  Canterbury  does  with  us,  and  it  has  been  the 
place  of  pilgrimage  for  generations. 

We  have  met  with  Buddhists  in  Ceylon  and  Moham- 
medans in  Egypt.  There  are  Buddhists  among  the 
natives  of  India  too,  though  not  many,  considering  the 
population  ;  there  are  many  more  Mohammedans,  but  by 
far  the  largest  number  of  the  people,  outnumbering  the 
Mohammedans  by  three  to  one,  are  the  Hindus,  and  it  is 
as  a  Hindu  capital  that  Benares  mainly  exists.  British 
rule  throws  protection  alike  over  all  races  and  all  re- 
ligions ;  never  was  there  a  broader  based  dominion  ;  be 
a  man  a  Hindu,  Sikh,  Mohammedan,  Parsee,  Buddhist, 
or  Christian,  the  law  protects  him  in  the  exercise  of  his 
faith  so  long  as  it  does  not  lead  to  cruelty  such  as  in 
the  burning  of  widows,  or  so  long  as  it  does  not  encroach 
upon  the  rights  of  others. 

The  Hindu  religion  is  an  extraordinary  one.  At  first 
sight,  seeing  the  jumble  up  of  strange  gods, — the  cow- 
goddess,  the  monkey-god,  elephant-god,  and  others, — it 
seems  rather  to  resemble  the  religion  of  the  ancient 
Egyptians,  but  it  is  not  a  real  resemblance.  The  highest 
idea  of  the  Hindu,  as  of  the  Buddhist,  is  to  pass  out  into 
a  sort  of  painless  existence  of  nothingness.  And  to  over- 
come the  flesh  and  to  arrive  at  a  placid  state,  where 
nothing  matters,  is  attempted  here  on  earth  by  some. 
Some  of  the  old  men,  fakirs  as  they  are  called,  like  the 


A  CITY  OF  PRIESTS 


245 


A    FAKIR. 


one  we  met  in  Delhi,  do  astonishing  things  merely  by 
force  of  an  iron  determination.  They  will  sit  so  long 
holding  an  arm  in  one  position  that  it  shrivels.  Others 
will  lie  for  years  on  a  bed  of  spikes.  They  eat  very  little, 
live  on  charity,  and  are  often  lost  in  a  state  of  trance. 

As  we  row  slowly  back  along  the  river  we  see  countless 
flat  umbrellas,  like  those  known  as  Japanese  umbrellas, 
studding  the  gay  crowd  ;  under  each  one  of  these  there 
is  a  "  holy  man,"  and  there  are  thousands  of  them  alto- 
gether in  this  city,  living  on  the  offerings  of  the  pilgrims. 

Look  at  that  fellow  seated  cross-legged  on  a  plank 
running  out  into  the  river.  He  pours  water  over  his  feet 
every  now  and  again  out  of  a  little  copper  bowl,  and 
mutters  something.     lie  is  so  much  absorbed  in  what  he 


246      ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

is  doing  that  he  never  looks  up  or  turns  his  head.  Another, 
close  by,  has  hung  his  gaily-coloured  turban  on  a  post 
and  proceeds  to  unwind  his  garment  and  cast  it  from 
him  before  he  steps  into  the  water  with  hardly  a  rag 
upon  him.  This  lady  in  an  orange  scarf,  dripping  wet, 
seats  herself  on  the  end  of  the  board,  and  winds  a  dry 
scarf  round  herself  so  adroitly  that  it  is  like  a  conjuring 
trick  ;  she  stands  up  and  the  wet  one  falls  from  her. 
She  would  get  well  paid  as  a  quick-change  artiste  at  a 
music  hall,  and  such  a  gift  would  be  invaluable  for  bathing 
on  the  Cornish  coast  ! 

The  men  along  the  edge  are  very  jolly,  they  chatter 
all  the  time  and  splash  and  wash  and  enjoy  themselves. 
No  English  seaside  place  on  a  trip-day  can  beat  this 
crowd.  The  fact  that  dead  bones  and  skulls  are  con- 
stantly thrown  into  the  water,  and  that  the  ashes  of 
dead  people,  and  much  else  that  is  indescribably  filthy, 
mingles  with  it,  doesn't  seem  to  disturb  them  at  all. 

When  you  have  wearied  of  watching  them  we  will 
go  and  visit  one  of  the  innumerable  temples  in  the  city, 
but  we  shall  need  a  guide  for  that,  as  it  is  not  safe  to 
wander  in  these  streets  alone. 

No  sooner  have  we  landed  and  fought  our  way  into 
one  of  the  narrow  alleys,  than  the  road  is  blocked  by  an 
enormous  bull  who  stands  placidly  before  a  greengrocer's 
stall  sampling  his  wares.  The  man  makes  no  attempt  to 
drive  him  away,  but  tries  to  tempt  him  by  holding  a 
choice  bunch  of  his  best  stuff.  The  beast  has  slavered 
over  much  that  will  be  sold  for  human  food  afterwards. 
What  ?  A  good  smack  on  the  flank !  For  goodness' 
sake  take  care  !  The  animal  is  supposed  to  be  sacred  ; 
to  touch  him  would  be  to  bring  out  all  the  inhabitants 
of  these  houses  on  to  us  like  a  swarm  of  hornets.  Luckily 
the  beast  is  so  well  fed  that  he  soon  moves  on  and  we 
can  get  past. 


A  CITY  OF  PRIESTS  247 

Now  we  have  reached  the  most  important  temple  of 
all,  known  as  the  Golden  Temple,  and  as  we  pass  into 
the  cloisters  we  see  a  couple  more  animals  standing 
inside,  as  much  at  home  as  if  they  were  in  a  byre,  which, 
indeed,  the  place  smells  like,  with  a  strange  scent  of 
sweet  flowers  on  the  top  of  it.  It  is  a  wonderful  place, 
but  oh,  so  dirty  !  It  is  dedicated,  of  all  things,  to  the 
poison-god,  Shiva  !  It  stands  in  a  quadrangle,  roofed 
in,  and  above  rise  some  of  those  curious  elongated  domes 
we  saw  from  the  boat.  If  we  climb  up  through  that 
flower-stall  where  blossoms  are  being  sold  for  offerings, 
we  can  see  these  domes,  which  really  have  cost  a  lot  of 
money,  as  two  of  them  are  gilt  all  over  ;  the  gilding  keeps 
its  glitter  here  and  rises  dazzlingly  against  the  hot  sky. 

There  are  other  temples  by  the  dozen  and  mosques 
too  for  the  Mohammedans.  If  we  wander  round  we  shall 
see  many  strange  sights  ;  in  one  shrine  is  the  image  of  the 
god  Saturn,  a  silver  disc,  in  another  that  of  Ganesh,  the 
elephant-god,  surely  the  most  hideous  of  all  !  Look  at 
him  !  A  squatting  dwarf  with  an  elephant's  trunk  ! 
At  another  place  is  the  image  of  Shiva  himself ;  it  has 
a  silver  face,  though  made  of  stone,  and  possesses  four 
hands  ;  it  is  guarded  by  a  dog,  and  you  can  buy  little 
imitation  dogs  made  of  sugar  anywhere  near.  There  is 
even  an  image  of  the  goddess  of  smallpox,  and  if  you 
ask  why  the  Hindu  chooses  such  repulsive  and  revolting 
things  to  worship,  the  answer  is,  because  he  is  afraid.  He 
says,  "  If  the  gods  are  good  they  will  not  injure  me,  but 
if  they  are  evil  I  must  propitiate  them  !  " 

Everywhere  we  go  we  have  copper  bowls  or  even  the 
half  of  coco-nut  shells  thrust  at  us  for  offerings  ;  the 
priests  tolerate  the  strangers  entering  their  temples  only 
because  they  hope  to  get  something  out  of  them. 

We  are  now  far  from  Benares  ;   we  have  left  behind  the 


248       ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

narrow  crowded  alleys,  the  violent  smells,  and  the  gay 
colours,  and  are  in  the  train  speeding  toward  Calcutta, 
whence  we  w^ill  take  a  steamer  to  Burma.  The  train  has 
just  stopped  at  a  wayside  station  and  there  is  a  chance  to 
stretch  our  legs.  Ramaswamy  appears  and  tells  us  they 
are  going  to  stop  here  for  a  time.  He  doesn't  seem  to 
know  why, — something  about  a  sahib  is  all  we  can  gather, 
— so  we  get  out  and  wander  along  the  village  street.  We 
have  only  gone  a  short  way  when  we  see  a  kind  of  litter 
coming  along  slung  on  bearers'  shoulders.  It  is  screened 
by  curtains,  and  beside  it  rides  a  white  man  in  a  helmet, 
followed  by  natives.  \^niy,  that  is  the  very  man  who  came 
up  in  the  train  from  Delhi  with  us  !  I  wonder  what  he 
is  doing  here.  That  must  be  a  sick  woman  in  the  litter. 
This  is  evidently  what  the  train  was  waiting  for,  so  we 
might  as  well  go  back. 

We  get  to  the  station  just  in  time  to  see  the  curtains 
pushed  aside  by  the  sahib,  who  very  tenderly  and  skil- 
fully raises  in  his  arms  the  sick  person  inside,  and  supports 
him  into  the  station.  It  is  a  gaunt  scarecrow  of  a  man,  a 
skeleton  of  a  creature,  whose  big  pathetic  eyes  look  dark 
in  his  hollow  face.  He  is  evidently  very  ill.  He  is  half- 
carried  across  to  a  carriage  next  to  ours  that  has  been 
prepared  for  him,  and  is  laid  down  on  a  couch  on  the  seat, 
and  it  is  not  long  before  we  get  under  way  again.  Going 
out  a  little  later  on  to  the  platform  between  the  two 
compartments  we  find  our  friend,  the  tall  Englishman, 
standing  there  smoking.  He  recognises  us  at  once  and 
asks  us  about  our  experiences ;  it  is  not  difficult  to  find 
out  about  the  invalid. 

One  of  the  best  chaps  going,"  he  says  shortly. 
Simply  broken  up  by  the  work  he's  been  doing  in  the 
plague-camp  up  there.  He  is  a  doctor,  so  am  I,  and 
I've  just  got  back  from  leave.  I  went  up-country  to 
relieve  Jordan,  but  the  work  is  nearly  over,  and  I  found  him 


A  CITY  OF  PRIESTS  249 

played  out.  He  has  hardly  had  his  clothes  off  for  weeks. 
The  difficulty  is  to  persuade  these  people  to  get  out  of 
their  infected  houses  into  a  camp  until  the  place  is  made 
sanitary  and  the  plague  stayed.  He  was  single-handed  at 
first,  now  there  are  two  other  men  up  there,  so  I  can  be 
spared  to  take  him  down  to  the  coast.  He'll  get  over  it ; 
oh  yes,  he's  got  the  turn  now,  though  he  was  nearly  gone 
once  or  twice,  but  he'll  never  be  the  same  man  again.  He 
is  invalided  home  for  a  bit,  and  the  voyage  will  pull  him 
up,  but  even  as  he  is  he's  sore  at  leaving  it.  He  wants  to 
finish  his  job." 

"  Then  when  you've  left  him  at  Calcutta  you'll  go 
back  to  the  infected  district  ?  " 

"  Yes,  of  course,  why  not  ?  It's  all  in  the  day's  work, 
and  you  know  we've  actually  had  only  thirty  deaths  in  a 
month  since  the  beggars  were  got  out  into  camp,  and  they 
were  dying  at  the  rate  of  hundreds  a  week  before.  Grand, 
isn't  it  ?  "     His  face  lights  up  with  enthusiasm. 

India  is  full  of  such  men  ;  they  don't  play  for  safety, 
they  take  their  lives  in  their  hands  at  a  moment's  notice, 
and  go  blithely  to  grapple  with  death. 


BURMESE  VILLAGE, 


CHAPTER    XXI 


THE    GOLDEN    PAGODA 


It  is  hot  and  still,  we  have  passed  across  a  place  of  broken 
tangled  undergrowth  and  come  out  into  a  rather  untidy 
courtyard,  where  some  sneaking  yellow  pariah  dogs  barked 
at  us  until  I  cut  at  them  with  my  stick,  when  they  ran 
away  and  barked  again  from  a  safe  distance.  There 
seems  to  be  no  one  else  here  but  ourselves.  A  great  tree 
covered  with  glorious  magenta  flowers  stands  on  one  side. 
It  is  our  old  friend  the  bougainvillea,  but  here  it  grows  into 
a  great  tree  instead  of  a  creeper.  It  is  backed  up  by  the 
dark  foliage  of  many  mango  trees.     In  front  of  us  is  a 


250 


THE  GOLDEN  PAGODA  251 

large  house  which  seems  to  rise  in  many  storeys,  and  the 
roof  of  each  storey  is  carved  and  decorated,  so  that  it 
shows  up  hke  lacework  against  the  sky.  The  house 
stands  on  legs,  so  that  the  under  part  is  quite  open,  and  a 
broad  flight  of  wooden  steps  leads  up  to  a  verandah  on 
the  first  floor.  Stop  to  examine  the  carving  on  the  balus- 
trade. It  is  wonderful  !  Figures  of  tigers,  dragons,  pea- 
cocks, monkeys,  and  elephants  are  all  set  among  foliage 
and  cut  out  very  deeply. 

When  we  arrived  in  Burma  yesterday  we  came  up  the 
river  Irrawaddy,  which  at  its  mouth  is  called  the  Rangoon 
River.  What  seemed  like  low  green  banks  are  really 
swamps  filled  with  rushes  growing  high  and  strong  ;  as 
we  passed  between  them  suddenly  we  saw  afar  off  a  gleam 
of  gold,  and  by  staring  hard  we  made  out  a  great  tower 
against  the  sky.  We  are  going  to  visit  it  presently,  but 
just  now  I  want  you  to  see  something  else  quite  funny. 
Step  softly  on  the  broad  wooden  verandah  and  peep  round 
that  corner. 

There  squats  an  old  man  with  a  perfectly  bald  head, 
smooth  as  a  billiard  ball ;  he  wears  a  loose  garment  of  dull 
yellow  stuff  which  forms  a  sort  of  skirt  and  is  draped 
across  one  shoulder  as  well,  falling  over  his  honey-coloured 
chest.  He  is  all  yellow,  except  for  his  round,  shining  black 
eyes,  very  like  glistening  balls  of  jet.  On  the  ground  in 
front  of  him,  lying  full  length  on  their  little  stomachs,  are 
about  a  dozen  small  boys.  You  thought  they  were  girls  ? 
I  don't  wonder  !  Each  one  has  a  feathery  tuft  of  hair  in 
the  middle  of  his  head  standing  up  like  carrot  tops,  except 
for  this  the  little  skull  is  closely  shaven  all  round.  They 
all  have  skimpy  white  jackets  and  skirts  from  which  their 
skinny  little  yellow  legs  stick  out  kicking  in  the  effort  to 
master  their  tasks.  In  a  loud  sing-song  jabber  they  are 
repeating  something  which  they  read  off  the  slates  they 
hold  in  front  of  them.     It  would  be  funny  to  learn  lessons 


252       ROUND  THE  WO>7DERFUL  WORLD 


lying  flat  on  the  floor,  wouldn't  it  ?  But  these  boys  have 
never  sat  on  chairs  in  their  lives  ;  they  will  have  to  learn 
that  as  an  accomplishment  if  they  go  into  business  offices 
when  they  are  older. 

The  old  poongyi,  or  monk,  is  the  teacher.  This  beautiful 
carved  wooden  building  is  the  house  where  the  monks  live, 
and  it  is  called  a  choung.     In  the  morning,  very  early, 

the  monks  wander  forth,  dressed 
in  yellow  robes  and  carrying 
begging-bowls  and  fans.  They 
do  not  beg,  however,  they  are 
much  too  proud ;  they  merely 
stop  and  stand  about  where  there 
are  houses,  and  the  people  rush  to 
pour  food  into  their  bowls.  It  is 
a  privilege  for  them  to  be  allowed 
to  do  this,  as  they  are  supposed 
to  "  gain  merit "  by  so  doing. 
Nearly  all  the  Burmese  are  Bud- 
dhists, and  these  men  are  Buddhist 
monks. 

You  would  never  guess  what 
the  fans  are  for  ;  they  are  to  put 
up  as  screens  to  shield  the  faces 
of  the  monks  when  they  pass  a 
woman,  for  they  are  not  supposed 
ever  to  look  at  a  woman,  it  is  too 
frivolous  !  When  the  begging-bowls  are  full  they  gener- 
ally contain  a  strange  mixture,  for  everyone  pours  in 
anything  he  or  she  happens  to  have  ;  there  will  certainly 
be  rice,  both  cooked  and  raw,  peas,  perhaps  fish,  and 
this  may  be  wrapped  up  in  a  leaf  to  keep  it  separate,  which 
is  necessary  when  it  is  curried  ;  then  there  will  be  some 
cakes  or  cucumbers  ;  possibly,  in  the  season,  mangoes  and 
plantains.     One  of  the  greatest  delicacies  of  the  Burmese 


A   POONGYI,   OR  MONK. 


THE  GOLDEN  PAGODA  253 

is  a  horribly  smelly  stuff  called  ngape,  made  of  rotten  fish 
laid  in  salt ;  no  feast  is  complete  without  it. 

The  monks  are  supposed  to  live  on  what  they  get  in 
their  begging-bowls,  but,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  in  wealthy 
monasteries  they  don't ;  they  empty  it  out  for  the  pariah 
dogs,  which  explains  why  so  many  dogs  always  hang 
around  the  monasteries. 

The  Burmese  have  some  funny  notions  ;  one  is  that 
they  do  not  like  anyone  else's  feet  to  be  above  their  heads, 
so  they  build  their  houses  on  posts  and  do  not  use  the 
ground  floor.  It  looks  as  if  there  were  many  more  storeys 
rising  above  the  first  floor  where  they  live,  but  that  is  a 
sham  ;  the  roof  is  only  built  to  look  like  that,  and  is  hollow 
inside.  In  most  of  the  monasteries  there  are  schools,  and 
the  little  boys  are  taught  in  them,  as  you  see  here.  Besides 
this,  every  boy,  when  he  gets  to  a  certain  age,  must  spend 
a  time,  longer  or  shorter,  in  the  monastery.  It  may  be 
only  a  few  days  or  weeks  and  it  may  be  years,  according 
to  the  ideas  of  his  parents,  but  while  he  is  there  he  has  to 
wear  the  yellow  robe  and  carry  the  begging-bowl,  and  what 
to  a  growing  boy  must  be  most  trying  of  all,  he  is  not 
allowed  to  eat  anything  after  midday  ! 

That  old  fellow  has  caught  sight  of  us ;  he  is  getting  up 
and  seems  quite  pleased  to  welcome  us.  It  is  a  good  thing 
we  brought  Ramaswamy  with  us,  for  he  can  speak  Burmese 
and  interpret  for  us  ;  the  monk  knows  no  English.  The 
little  boys  spring  to  their  feet  and  stand  gazing  at  us  with 
wide  eyes,  delighted,  as  any  boys  would  be,  at  getting  an 
interruption  to  their  lessons.  They  gradually  come  round 
us  and  begin  to  laugh  and  even  to  touch  our  clothes,  but 
the  old  monk  sends  them  all  away  and  leads  us  into  the 
wooden  rooms  of  the  monastery  that  open  off  the  verandah. 
Several  monks  here  are  lying  lazily  about  on  mats  half- 
asleep,  but  in  a  moment  they  all  surround  us,  and  for  the 
first  few  minutes  we  experience  rather  an  eerie  sensation. 


254   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

Coming  in  from  the  bright  sunshine  outside  everything 
seems  very  dim,  and  these  curious  men  with  their  shaven 
heads  and  beetle  eyes  come  close  up  to  us  and  press  upon 
us,  pawing  us  and  pointing  to  a  great  image  of  Buddha 
shining  out  in  a  ghostly  way  from  a  shrine  at  the  end  of 
the  hall. 

There  are  many  little  candles  burning  before  it,  most 
of  them  sticking  to  the  ground  by  their  own  grease.  One 
of  the  monks  takes  one  up  and  holds  it  so  that  we  can 
see  the  image,  about  twice  life-size,  seated  in  that  calm 
attitude  of  the  sitting  Buddha,  with  crossed  legs  and  one 
hand  on  the  lap,  while  the  other  hangs  loosely  down. 
There  is  a  serene  self-satisfied  smirk  on  the  marble  face, 
which  looks  more  like  that  of  a  woman  than  a  man. 
Ramaswamy  explains  to  us  that  this  is  a  very  specially 
holy  Buddha,  and  that  the  little  dabs  of  gold  splashed 
here  and  there  about  him  .are  the  offerings  of  the  faithful ; 
they  are  simply  bits  of  gold-leaf  stuck  on.  Gold-leaf  is 
expensive,  for  it  is  real  gold  beaten  very  thin,  and  these 
little  bits  represent  much  self-denial  on  the  part  of  many 
poor  people.  A  Burman's  great  object  in  life  is  to  "  gain 
merit  "  for  a  future  existence,  for  he  thinks  that  he  will 
live  again  and  again  many  times  in  different  forms,  and 
that  as  he  behaves  in  this  life  so  he  will  be  born  again  into  a 
better  or  worse  state  in  the  next  ;  if  he  is  very  bad  he  runs 
the  risk  of  becoming  a  snake  or  some  other  repulsive 
reptile.  He  is  not  afraid  of  overdoing  the  merit,  as  the 
ancient  Egyptian  was ;  the  more  he  can  pile  up  for 
himself  the  better,  and  the  way  in  which  he  does  this  is 
to  feed  the  poongyis,  build  choungs  and  pagodas,  and  set 
up  or  adorn  figures  of  Buddha. 

The  priests  at  this  choung  own  a  priceless  relic ;  it  is  no 
less  than  a  hair  of  Buddha  !  After  some  persuasion  they 
are  induced  to  show  it  to  us.  They  bring  a  great  casket, 
which  is  solemnly  unlocked,  showing  another  inside,  and 


THE  GOLDEN  PAGODA 


255 


BUDDHA. 


again  another,  and  at  last  we  get  down  to  a  little  glass  box 
with  an  artificial  white  flower  in  it,  round  which  is  wound 
a  long  and  very  wiry  white  hair.  I  should  say  many 
of  the  same  sort  could  be  got  from  any  long-tailed  white 
horse  ! 

On  a  table  near  are  various  offerings,  and  among  them 
we  see  a  rather  greasy  pack  of  ordinary  playing-cards  and  a 
soda-water  bottle,  besides  several  saucers  of  waxy  white 
blossoms  of  the  frangipani  flower,  such  as  we  saw  in  Ceylon, 
emitting  a  very  strong  scent.  The  soda-water  bottle  and 
playing-cards  look  rather  dissipated,  but  they  are  quite 
serious  offerings,  given  by  somebody  who  thinks  them  rare 
and  interesting.  Our  ears  for  some  time  past  have  told 
us  that  an  extraordinary  amount  of  ticking  is  going  on, 
and  now  that  our  eyes  have  become  accustomed  to  the 


256   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

light,  we  can  see  numerous  clocks  on  brackets  and  tables ; 
these  are  of  all  sorts  and  sizes,  including  a  2s.  lid.  "  Bee  '* 
clock,  cuckoo  clocks,  and  even  one  large  "  grandfather.'* 
In  between  and  about  them,  on  the  floor  and  on  the  shelves, 
are  lamps  large  and  lamps  small,  some  brass,  some  china> 
and  some  glass  ! 

The  clocks  are  all  going  hard,  ticking  away  as  if  they 
were  running  a  race  to  see  which  could  get  ahead  of  the 
other.  It  is  a  funny  medley !  The  monks  are  lazy 
enough  and  pass  half  their  days  asleep,  but  if  they  keep 
all  these  clocks  wound  up  someone  must  have  some~ 
thing  to  do.  These  are  all  offerings,  and  the  more  the 
better ;  no  monk  can  ever  get  enough  lamps  or  clocks  ta 
satisfy  him ! 

We  pass  down  and  out  into  the  courtyard,  and  all  the 
monks  follow  us  in  a  body  and  gently  edge  us  toward 
some  ponds  or  tanks  where  fat  tortoises  lie  on  the  banks 
or  float  lazily  in  the  stagnant  water. 

There  is  a  man  sitting  on  the  side  selling  balls  of  rice 
and  bits  of  bread.  Just  as  we  come  up  a  graceful  Burmese 
woman  buys  a  ball  and  throws  it  into  the  water.  In  an 
instant  what  looks  like  a  voracious  army  of  huge  spiders 
floats  up  from  below  and  attacks  it,  and  as  the  ball 
of  rice  dissolves  and  falls  apart  every  grain  disappears. 
Looking  more  closely  we  see  that  they  are  not  spiders 
at  all,  but  a  curious  kind  of  fish  with  long  feelers  growing 
out  all  round  his  mouth  and  nose.  As  he  thrusts  up  his 
mouth  to  the  surface,  with  all  the  feelers  wriggling,  the 
rest  of  his  body  is  unseen,  and  the  appearance  is  exactly 
that  of  a  round  spider  with  wriggling  legs.  Buy  a  bit  of 
crust  and  see  the  fish  dart  at  it  and  simply  tear  it  to  pieces ; 
they  scramble  at  it  from  all  sides,  pushing  and  nibbling, 
and  in  less  time  than  you  could  imagine  every  crumb  is 
gone  ! 

The  woman  is  laughing,  and  we  laugh  back  at  her.. 


^1 

ir^i-Ae 

THl-:  GOI-UEN   PAGODa. 


THE  GOLDEN  PAGODA  257 

She  is  short  and  very  neat,  with  her  shining  black  hair 
coiled  round  her  head  and  secured  by  two  Kg  pl.is,  while 
a  dainty  spray  of  flower  falls  down  on  one  side.  Her  face 
looks  quite  light  coloured,  for  it  is  thickly  covered  with  a 
kind  of  soft  yellow  powder,  and  she  has  a  brilliant  gauzy 
scarf  across  her  little  white  jacket  and  falling  down  over 
her  tight  rose-pink  silk  skirt.  As  she  walks  away  with  a 
curious  shuffle  we  see  that  she  has  on  the  quaintest  shoes, 
with  red  velvet  caps  and  no  heels  ;  but  the  caps  are  so  much 
too  small  for  her  feet  that  she  has  had  to  leave  the  little 
toe  outside  !  This  is  a  fine  dodge,  and  Mali  Shwe  can  say 
she  takes  twos  or  threes  in  shoes  with  truth,  even  if  her 
feet  are  much  larger  ! 

The  monks  are  standing  in  a  solemn  group  near  their 
staircase  when  we  go  back,  and  when  I  suggest  to  Rama- 
swamy  we  should  give  them  something  he  disagrees 
vigorously.  '*  Not  touching  money.  Master,  only  food  and 
rice,  no  money."  All  right,  we  won't  tempt  them,  and  I 
put  back  the  rupee  I  had  taken  out.  You  must  have 
noticed  already  that  the  money  here  is  the  same  as  in 
India.  Then  we  climb  into  the  miserable  little  box  on 
wheels  which  is  waiting  for  us  ;  it  is  the  only  cab  we  can 
get  here,  and  calls  itself  a  ticca-gharry.  The  little  rat  of  a 
pony  seems  a  very  long  way  off ;  it  is  a  tight  squeeze  for 
us  inside,  and  there  is  certainly  no  room  on  the  box  beside 
the  hairy-legged  native  for  Ramaswamy,  but  he  hops 
up  on  a  board  there  is  behind  for  the  purpose,  and  hangs 
on  as  we  jolt  away  to  the  Golden  Pagoda. 

The  first  thing  we  see  when  we  arrive  at  it  are  two 
enormous  monsters,  not  like  any  animal  in  existence,  made 
of  white  plaster  witli  glaring  red  eyes.  They  have  dragons* 
heads  and  tigers'  bodies  and  are  most  terribly  ferocious. 
These  guard  tlic  entrance  to  the  pagoda  and  are  called 
Icogryplis.  Between  them  there  is  a  long  ascent  rising 
to  the  pagoda  platform.  The  place  is  like  a  bazaar  with 
17 


258   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

people  in  their  gay  clothes  coming  and  going,  and  the  sun 
glinting  through  between  the  pillars  at  the  open  spaces. 
It  is  difficult  to  tell  the  difference  between  men  and 
women,  for  all  alike  wear  skirts  and  jackets,  and  you  never 
see  a  man  with  a  beard,  hardly  ever  with  a  moustache. 
But  the  true  distinction  is  that  the  men  have  a  gay  hand- 
kerchief called  a  goungbaung  wound  round  their  heads,  and 
the  women  wear  no  head  covering,  and,  as  you  have  seen, 

they  never  think  of  veiling  their 
faces,  like  the  Mohammedan  women. 
The  men's  head-gear  is  very  differ- 
ent from  that  we  saw  in  India  ;  it 
is  not  a  huge  and  heavy  erection, 
but  just  a  silk  or  cotton  scarf 
twisted  up  and  tucked  in,  and  very 
often  there  is  a  "  bird's  nest  "  of 
dark  hair  sticking  out  in  the  middle 
of  it,  for  the  men's  hair  is  long  as 
well  as  the  women's,  but  they  roll  it 
up  so  that  it  is  not  seen. 

Everyone  is  very  bright  and 
friendly,  and  the  girls  who  are 
selling  all  sorts  of  little  tawdry 
things  on  the  stalls  by  the  stairs 
call  out  to  us  persuasively  to  buy 
from  them.  On  the  whole  the 
place  is  clean,  and  there  is  no 
bazaar  smell,  only  a  certain  sharp  wood-smoke  flavour 
and  the  scent  of  many  flowers.  But  at  the  foot  of  every 
white  column  are  horrible  deep-red  stains  that  look  as  if 
some  little  animal  had  been  slaughtered  there.  It  is  not 
so  bad  as  that.  You  remember  we  saw  a  man  whose 
mouth  was  stained  red  with  chewing  betel-nut,  which 
he  did  in  the  same  way  that  some  of  the  roughest 
men  in  England   chew  tobacco  ?     These  are  the   stains 


THE   LEOGRYPH. 


THE  GOLDEN  PAGODA  259 

of  that  betel-nut,  for  nearly  everyone  here  has  the  nasty 
habit. 

Up  the  steps  we  pass,  higher  and  higher,  and  come  out 
on  to  a  great  platform  which  looks  like  a  street,  for  it  is 
lined  with  buildings  on  all  four  sides  and  in  the  middle 
too ;  but  rising  above  those  in  the  middle  is  the  great 
pagoda,  the  Shwe  Dagon, — shwe  means  golden, — and  this 
is  the  most  wonderful  thing  in  Burma. 

It  is  so  wide  at  the  base  that  it  takes  quite  a  long  time 
to  walk  round  it,  and  then  it  goes  up  in  a  bell-like  curve, 
tapering  to  a  steeple  little  less  than  the  height  of  St. 
Paul's  Cathedral.  At  the  very  top  of  all,  so  high  that  we 
can  only  see  it  by  cricking  our  necks,  is  an  iron  cage  called 
a  htee,  meaning  "  umbrella,"  decorated  with  swinging 
bells.  Listen  for  a  moment  and  perhaps  you  can  hear 
them  as  the  wind  sways  them  about.  No,  the  air  is  too 
still  to-day.  Deep  in  the  innermost  chamber  of  the 
pagoda  are  no  less  than  eight  hairs  of  Buddha,  besides 
other  relics  of  other  Buddhas  who  lived  before  the  last. 

The  marvel  of  it  is  that  this  great  monument  is  pure 
gold  from  top  to  bottom.  Much  of  it  is  covered  with 
thin  plates  of  real  gold,  and  the  rest,  yards  and  yards  of 
it,  is  plastered  with  gold-leaf. 

Did  you  see  that  red  glint  from  the  top  as  the  sun 
caught  the  htee  at  an  angle  ?  That  was  probably  a  real 
ruby,  for  it  flashed  out  like  a  sword  blade.  There  are  many 
real  stones  set  up  there,  and  the  htee  alone  cost  £50,000  ! 

Coming  back  to  earth,  look  at  the  glitter  on  all  these 
shrines  that  Hne  the  platform  on  both  sides.  Though  it 
looks  like  a  street  it  isn't  really,  for  there  are  no  houses, 
only  shrines  and  temples.  That  one  close  to  us  is  dazzling 
to  look  at.  No,  those  blue  and  red  flashes  are  not  from 
real  jewels;  examine  them  and  see.  The  sluine  is  encased 
with  little  pieces  of  looking-glass,  some  red  and  some  blue 
and  some  plain,  all  fitted  in  together  hke  mosaic. 


26o      ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

The  next  is  made  of  the  wonderful  carved  woodwork 
the  Burmans  do  so  well,  and  it  is  gilded  all  over  ;  for  my 
own  part  I  prefer  the  dark  teak  ungilded,  but  still  this 
looks  very  handsome  among  the  rest.  That  tall  post 
like  a  flagstaff,  with  streamers  flying  from  it,  is  a  praying- 
post  ;  can  you  make  out  the  figure  like  a  weather-cock  at 
the  top  ?  It  is  a  goose  instead  of  a  cock,  and  doesn't  tell 
the  direction  of  the  wind.  It  is  the  sacred  goose.  The 
brilliance  of  all  this  detail  takes  one's  breath  away.  On 
every  side  we  see  the  people  worshipping,  and  yet  it  is 
not  a  festival  day,  for  then  we  should  hardly  be  able  to 
move  for  the  crowds  on  the  platform — where  there  are  tens 
now  there  would  then  be  thousands.  The  worshippers 
drop  down  quite  simply  on  the  pavement  before  a  favourite 
shrine  and  hold  up  their  hands  toward  it,  sometimes  with 
an  offering  of  flowers  in  them,  or  even  a  big  taper.  There 
is  a  woman  passing  smoking  a  monstrous  "  green  "  cigar. 
It  is  a  huge  thick  roll  of  light-coloured  stuff  like  shavings, 
about  as  long  as  your  arm  from  elbow  to  wrist,  and  as 
thick  as  a  man's  finger.  She  has  to  open  her  little  round 
mouth  wide  to  get  the  end  in.  It  is  not  filled  with  pure 
tobacco,  but  a  chopped  mixture  of  all  sorts  ;  even  you 
could  smoke  it  without  any  harm.  Why  yes,  women 
smoke  here  almost  all  day,  and  children  too.  They  do 
say  the  mothers  give  the  babies-in-arms  a  whiff,  but  I 
haven't  seen  that  myself  ! 

Set  up  everywhere  are  coloured  umbrellas  with  fringes 
of  coloured  beads,  as  large  as  those  used  for  tents  on  lawns 
sometimes.  We  peer  into  numberless  shrines  as  we  pass 
and  see  Buddhas  of  every  sort  peeping  at  us  out  of  the 
dim  interiors ;  there  are  Buddhas  of  brass,  Buddhas 
of  marble,  Buddhas  of  alabaster,  Buddhas  coated  with 
white  paint,  and  Buddhas  covered  with  gold.  Most  of 
them  are  seated,  always  exactly  in  the  same  position 
as  the  one  we  saw  far  away  in  Ceylon.     This  is  supposed 


THE  GOLDEN  PAGODA  261 

to  signify  Buddha  as  he  sat  under  the  Bo  tree  meditating. 
Others  show  him  standing  with  one  hand  upraised,  and  this 
is  to  show  Buddha  as  he  was  when  teaching,  and  others 
are  lying  down,  but  these  are  the  least  common.  They 
are  supposed  to  show  Buddha  when  he  passed  into  eternal 
calm. 

Pink  is  by  far  the  favourite  colour  for  the  people's 
clothes,  and  it  is  very  vivid,  like  the  colour  seen  in  striped 
coco-nut  cream,  but  white  is  also  much  worn,  and  there 
is  some  yellow  in  orange  shades.  Many  of  the  Burmese 
wear  a  shirt  of  maroon  check,  just  like  a  check  duster ; 
these  are  their  workaday  clothes,  on  festivals  they  gener- 
ally manage  to  come  out  in  silks. 

Come  round  now  to  the  back  of  the  shrines  that  line 
the  platform  on  the  outer  side,  here  there  is  another  open 
space,  and  on  it  are  bells  as  large  as  church  bells ;  they 
hang  between  two    posts.     Take  up  one  of  those  deer's 
horns  lying  beside  that  one  and  stroke  it  hard.     It  gives 
out  a  clear  musical  note.     Try  now  the  piece  of  wood, 
that   sounds    different.     Everyone  who    passes    stops    to 
strike  one  or  the  other  of  the  bells,  they  want  to  call  the 
attention  of  the  "  good  nats,"  or  spirits,  to  the  fact  that 
they  are  at  the  pagoda  !     In  this   shed  is  an   enormous 
bell  large  enough  to  hold  half  a  dozen  men.     I  don't  think 
you'll  be  able  to  make  much  effect  with  a  deer's  horn  on 
that.     It  is  the  third  largest  in  the  world,  and  once  was 
in  the  bottom  of  the  Rangoon  River,  for  the  English  were 
carrying  it  away  when  it  toppled  over  and  sank.  Engineers 
tried  to  raise  it,  but  failed,  because  of  its  enormous  weight  ; 
but  the  Burmans,  after  some  time,  were  allowed  to  try, 
and  somehow  managed  to  succeed,  and  not  only  so,  but 
they  hauled  it  riglit  up  here  !     It  does  look  as  though 
there  were  something  weird  about  its  positive  refusal  to 
be  carried  away  ! 

Along  the  edge  of  this  part  of  the  pagoda  are  a  number 


262   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 


ON  THE  PLATFORM  OF  A  PAGODA. 


of  wooden  platforms  raised  a  foot  or  two  from  the  ground, 
for  the  use  of  those  who  come  from  long  distances,  and 
on  them  many  families  are  lying  or  sitting.  On  one  sits 
a  tiny  boy  with  a  quizzical  intelligent  little  face.  His 
top-knot  sticks  up  like  an  out-of-curl  feather.  Beside 
him  is  a  still  smaller  mite  who  cannot  be  more  than 
two  ;  he  has  little  silver  bangles  on  his  fat  wrists  and 
ankles,  and  a  strip  of  cotton  rolled  round  his  dumpy  body, 
while  papa  and  mamma  and  numerous  aunts  are  seated 
on  the  platform  behind  gravely  smoking. 

I  stop  to  light  a  cigarette  close  to  this  family,  and  in 
an  instant  the  elder  lad  holds  out  his  hand  timidly.  Just 
to  see  what  he  will  do  I  give  him  a  cigarette ;  he  takes  it 
with  a  self-possessed  courtesy  and  looks  at  me,  politely 
waiting  for  a  light.  I  hand  him  the  box  and  he  strikes  a 
iAAatch  and  bows  a  little  as  he  returns  it  :  even  the  children 


THE  GOLDEN  PAGODA  263 

have  excellent  manners.  Drawing  in  a  great  whiff  of 
smoke  he  sends  it  out  through  his  little  round  nose  in 
keen  enjoyment.  But  the  fat  baby  has  suddenly  become 
alive  to  what  is  going  on,  and  crawling  on  the  top  of  his 
brother  clamorously  demands  a  smoke  more  loudly  than 
if  he  were  asking  for  sweets.  The  bigger  boy  hands 
him  the  cigarette.  He  knows  quite  enough  not  to  put 
the  lighted  end  in  his  mouth,  and  in  a  second  is  puffing 
so  vigorously  that  the  cigarette  burns  away  like  a  furnace  ; 
when  his  brother  sees  this  he  makes  a  desperate  effort 
to  recover  it,  but  the  fat  baby  pushes  him  off  with  one 
hand,  while  he  clings  to  the  cigarette  with  the  other,  and, 
turning  away  his  head,  smokes  harder  than  ever. 

We  are  both  reduced  to  fits  of  laughter  by  this  time, 
and  the  family  on  the  platform  are  enjoying  the  joke  too. 
Seeing  that  there  are  likely  to  be  difficulties,  I  solve  them 
by  producing  another  cigarette  for  the  elder  boy,  and  the 
fat  baby  is  left  in  full  possession  of  the  first  one.  The 
last  sight  we  have  of  him  is  as  he  violently  resists  a 
grown-up  sister  who  is  trying  to  take  away  the  stub  ! 


CHAPTER   XXII 


THE   KING  S   REPRESENTATIVE 


We  are  lucky  !  No  sooner  have 
we  returned  to  the  hotel  than  a 
gorgeous  man,  over  six  feet  high, 
dressed  in  white,  with  a  red 
sash,  in  which  is  stuck  a  tasselled 
dagger,  greets  us.  He  is  a  chu- 
prassie,  or  messenger,  and  has 
come  from  Government  House 
with  a  note  inviting  us  to  a 
garden-party  there  this  afternoon. 
What  a  day  of  it  !  This  is  the 
result  of  my  having  been  up  there 
yesterday  to  write  our  names  in 
the  book  kept  for  the  purpose, 
while  I  left  you  to  rest.  That  is 
the  way  people  do  here  instead 
of  leaving  cards,  so  that  His 
Excellencv  the  Lieutenant- 
Governor  may  know  who  has  come 
to  the  country.  I  thought  perhaps 
he  would  take  some  notice  of  us, 
because  his  younger  brother  was  my  great  friend  at  the 
'Varsity,  but  this  is  very  prompt.  I  am  glad  you  will 
have  a  chance  of  seeing  something  of  Government  House, 
as  most  people  in  England  have  not  an  idea  how  things 

are  run  here.     Burma  is  counted  as  one  of  the  provinces 

264 


THE   GOVERNMENT   SERVANT. 


THE  KING'S  REPRESENTATIVE  265 

of  India,  and  is  under  the  Viceroy  of  all  India,  but  within 
his  own  borders  the  Lieutenant-Governor  is  the  ruler  and 
representative  of  the  King. 

It  is  about  four  o'clock,  when,  having  had  a  rest  and 
made  ourselves  as  smart  as  we  can,  we  crawl  up  the  long 
drive  leading  to  Government  House  in  one  of  the  ridiculous 
small  ticca-gharries  which  are  the  only  conveyances  one 
can  get. 

We  are  one  of  a  long  procession  of  vehicles  going 
at  a  foot's  pace,  stopping  and  starting  again.  Some  are 
private  carriages,  there  are  a  few  motors,  a  few  dog-carts, 
and  ours  is  not  the  only  little  box  on  wheels.  Lean  out 
a  little  and  you  will  see  a  flash  of  jewels  and  satiny  silk 
in  that  one  in  front  of  us  ;  evidently  some  wealthy  natives 
are  among  the  guests.  The  long  line  of  vehicles  comes 
up  to  the  door,  and  when  the  occupants  have  alighted  the 
drivers  curve  on  round  the  lawn  and  go  away.  At  last 
our  turn  comes.  A  pleasant-looking  man,  all  in  white, 
with  a  red  sash  and  sword,  and  a  wonderful  bunch  of 
tassels  and  plaits  in  gold,  called  an  aiguillette,  on  his 
breast,  greets  us  as  cordially  as  if  we  were  old  friends. 
Notice  the  plume  of  rose-pink  feathers  on  his  helmet  ! 
He  seems  to  know  all  about  us  without  our  saying  a  word, 
and  as  he  leads  the  way  across  the  short  grass  lawn  to 
where  our  host  and  hostess  stand  ready  to  greet  their 
guests,  he  tells  me  that  His  Excellency's  brother,  my  old 
friend,  is  actually  staying  here  now. 

His  Excellency  is  in  English  costume,  with  a  star  on 
his  breast  ;  he  shakes  hands  kindly  and  calls  out  to 
summon  his  brother,  who  is  not  far  off,  and  we  pass  on  to 
make  way  for  the  stream  of  newcomers. 

We  could  not  be  in  better  hands.  Claude  and  I  have 
not  met  for  years,  but  that  makes  no  difference;  we  greet 
each  other  as  if  we  had  parted  only  yesterday.  He  takes 
us  over  to  the  tables  for   tea   and    fruit.     And  when  he 


266   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

hears  this  is  your  first  visit  he  insists  on  your  eating  a 
mango,  which  is  the  most  famous  fruit  in  the  country  and 
just  ripe.  These  are  a  specially  good  sort,  not  very  large, 
with  pink  "  cheeks  "  ;  when  you  have  stripped  off  the 
tough  skin  you  find  you  get  down  to  the  big  stone  very 
soon,  and  there  isn't  much  room  for  the  fruity  part  between, 
still,  what  there  is  of  it  is  excellent,  and  I  see  you  furtively 
using  your  handkerchief  to  get  rid  of  the  stickiness  after- 
wards ! 

Then  we  sit  in  basket-chairs,  not  too  near  the  band, 
and  Claude  tells  us  "  all  about  it."  It  is  a  much  more 
brilliant  scene  than  an  ordinary  garden-party  at  home, 
because  in  addition  to  the  Europeans  there  are  a 
number  of  high-class  Burmese.  Those  little  ladies  near 
us  standing  in  a  group  are  most  gorgeously  attired  in 
much- embroidered  fussy  little  jackets  with  short  wings, 
or  lappets,  sticking  out  behind,  and  their  skirts,  or  tameins, 
are  woven  of  the  richest  silk.  As  that  one  turns  you  see 
that  beside  the  flowers  in  her  hair  she  has  two  big  pins  with 
heads  the  size  of  small  walnuts ;  those  are  real  diamonds, 
not  perhaps  of  the  first  water,  but  still  of  great  value. 
The  ladies'  faces  are  smooth  with  yellow  powder,  and  there 
is  something  very  neat  about  their  movements.  A  little 
way  off  is  a  Burman  with  a  pink  goungbaum  and  very 
rich  silk  skirt.  The  grass,  kept  green  by  plentiful  early 
morning  watering,  is  quite  vivid  in  colour,  and  the  clear 
cloudless  sky  is  of  a  thrilling  blue.  Government  House 
itself  is  a  great  palace,  not  beautiful,  as  it  is  built  of  yellow 
brick  and  pink  terra-cotta,  but  imposing  and  dignified. 
Burman  attendants  wearing  turbans  and  skirts,  called 
lyungis,  of  purest  mauve,  and  dainty  white  jackets,  glide 
about  with  the  refreshments.  Burmans  will  seldom  take 
service  with  anyone,  generally  they  leave  that  to  the  natives 
of  India,  but  they  make  a  distinction  in  the  case  of  anyone 
so  important  as  the  Lieutenant-Governor. 


THE  KING'S  REPRESENTATIVE 


267 


•'  It's  all  rather  overwhelming  to  me,"  says  my  friend. 
"  You  know  I  am  a  quiet  man  ;  a  well-seasoned  pipe  and 
a  den  full  of  books  are  about  my  mark.  I  had  no  idea 
till  I  came  out  here  that  my  brother  was  such  a  boss  ; 
it  makes  me  want  to  run  away." 

"  Tell  us  about  some 
of  the  guests,"  I  suggest. 
"  \\liy  does  that  man  in 
the  saffron-coloured  robe 
have  yards  too  much  of 
it?" 

"  That's  his  best  gar- 
ment, called  a  putso^  I 
understand.  The  more 
stuff  the  better,  all 
bunched  up  ;  to  show  he 
can  afford  it,  I  suppose. 
Doesn't  leave  much  room 
for  the  tailor  to  display 
his  cut.  He's  a  promi- 
nent Government  man. 
I  don't  know  him  per- 
sonally. Those  two 
ladies  in  the  fussy  little 
jackets  are  royalties  ; 
they  wear  that  sort  of 
thing  because  they're  of 
the  old  royal  blood, 
though  otherwise  you  only  see  it  in  the  pwes,  or  plays. 
They  are  of  the  house  of  Theebaw,  the  king  we  dethroned 
in  1885  when  we  took  over  Upper  Burma.  He's  living 
still  in  Incha,  where  he  was  sent  into  exile.  I  don't  know 
wliat  rchition  tlicse  two  are  to  him,  but  when  every  king 
had  at  least  thirty  sons,  there  was  no  scarcity  of  relations  ! 
It  was  the  custom  for  the  son  who  mounted  the  throne  in 


A   LITTLE  BURMESE   LADY. 


268   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

the  old  days  to  kill  off  all  his  brothers  if  he  could  lay  hands 
on  them,  as  a  precaution  in  case  of  accidents.  I  take  it 
some  of  the  ladies  were  spared,  which  would  make  for  the 
inequality  of  the  sexes." 

**  I  suppose  your  brother  is  like  a  king  out  here  ?  " 

"  He  is  the  representative  of  the  King.  You  should 
see  him  driving  in  state  with  outriders  in  scarlet  liveries. 
People  in  England  don't  realise  it.  I  always  say  how  he 
will  suffer  when  he  retires  and  goes  to  England,  where 
no  one  will  shiko  to  him  !  " 

At  that  moment  he  springs  to  his  feet  to  shake  hands 
with  a  dignified  short  Burman  in  beautiful  native  dress, 
to  whom  he  introduces  us.  This  is  the  Sawbwa,  or  chief, 
of  Hsipaw,  one  of  the  native  states.  The  Sawbwa  has  been 
educated  in  England  and  speaks  perfectly  correct  English. 
He  has  a  passion  for  travel  and  wants  to  go  round  the 
world,  he  says,  but  he  has  to  get  permission  from  the  Viceroy 
before  leaving  the  country,  as  the  English  Government 
doesn't  like  the  native  princes  leaving  their  territory. 
So  long  as  he  stays  at  home  and  governs  his  people  well 
he  is  not  interfered  with,  but  when  he  wants  to  go  away 
he  feels  the  hand  of  Britain  over  him  ! 

After  talking  a  little  while  he  asks  us  if  we  have  seen 
the  football — he  calls  it  football,  but,  as  he  explains,  it 
is  a  native  game  called  chin-Ion,  which  is  not  quite  the 
same. 

We  saunter  across  the  lawn  and  find  that  a  sort  of 
exhibition  game  for  the  amusement  of  the  guests  is  going 
on.  The  ball  is  made  of  wickerwork  and  is  kept  in  the 
air  by  the  knees  or  feet  of  the  players  very  cleverly,  in 
fact,  so  cleverly  that  it  looks  quite  easy  to  do.  The 
young  men  who  are  playing  turn  and  twist  and  always 
catch  it  just  right,  sending  it  spinning  upwards  very 
neatly.  This  is  a  game  played  by  every  village  lad,  but 
if  you  tried  it  you'd  find  it  uncommonly  difficult. 


THE  KING'S  REPRESENTATIVE 


269 


♦     ^ '-' « 


/l^y^ 


"  BOXING." 


A  little  farther  on  two  men  are  boxing  with  their 
feet,  raising  their  legs  in  the  high  kick  and  sometimes 
smacking  each  other's  faces  with  the  soles ;  the  way 
they  balance  is  extraordinary,  there  are  roars  of  laughter 
when  one  nearly  goes  over  but  just  recovers  himself. 
He  is  a  bit  of  a  clown,  that  fellow,  and  does  it  on  purpose 
now  and  again,  though  really  he  is  perfectly  balanced. 
Then  we  walk  on  with  Claude  toward  the  house,  where 
the  marble  steps  are  lined  by  chuprassies,  like  the  one 
wlu)  hrouglit  us  our  invitation  this  morning  ;  we  pass 
into  the  liall,  with  its  liigh  white  columns  and  airy  spacious- 
ness, and  tlicn  we  see  masses  of  wood-carving  like  that 
at  the  choung,  deeply  undercut,  and  a  huge  pair  of 
elephant   tusks.     Everywhere   are   tall    vases   with   great 


270   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

orange  and  red  flags,  something  of  the  same  kind  as  those 
that  grow  by  riversides,  only  much  larger. 

The  passages  are  in  the  form  of  great  arcades,  and  the 
ballroom  behind  is  vast.  It  is  indeed  a  palace  fit  for  a 
king  ! 

His  Excellency  is  very  gracious,  and  when  he  is  free 
for  a  few  minutes  he  talks  to  us  and  asks  us  to  stay  with 
him  and  his  wife  on  our  way  back  from  up-country,  an 
invitation  we  gladly  accept.  He  also  promises  to  make 
everything  easy  for  us  on  our  tour.  As  we  go  away, 
after  having  taken  our  leave,  I  hear  you  say  thoughtfully — 

"  I  think  I'd  like  to  be  a  Lieutenant-Governor  when  I 
grow  up  !  " 

It  is  a  good  ambition,  but  you  will  have  to  be  clever 
and  very  hard  working  to  achieve  it,  and  even  then  you 
will  want  a  bit  of  luck.  You  must  go  into  the  Indian 
Civil  Service  first,  and  after  all,  of  course,  you  may  never 
get  there,  but  with  a  bit  of  luck 


THE   PALACE. 


CHAPTER    XXIII 


THE    CENTRE    OF   THE    UNIVERSE 


"  This  butter  is  uneatable,  Ramaswamy." 

*'  I  wash  him,  Master." 

He  takes  away  the  dish  of  nasty,  yellow,  tinned  butter 
and  presently  returns  with  it  fresh  and  white,  with  much 
of  the  disagreeable  taste  and  smell  gone.  Good  !  Now 
we  know. 

We  are  sitting  on  a  broad  verandah  of  dark  wood  with 
a  roof  overhead.  It  is  so  wide  that  it  is  just  like  a  room, 
only  the  outer  sides  are  open.  We  look  out  over  a  moat 
filled  with  water  and  covered  with  leaves  and  pink  flowers. 
These  are  the  celebrated  lotus  flowers,  or  lilies.  Behind 
rise  red  walls,  with  here  and  there  quaint  little  maroon- 
coloured  towers,  .'ill  pinnacles  and  angles,  showing  up 
like  fretwork  against  the  sky.  The  moat  is  crossed  by 
bridges    of    dazzling    wliite.     It    is    nearly    midday,    the 


271 


272   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

hottest  and  stillest  time  of  all  the  day,  and  we  are  lunching 
in  the  Circuit  House  at  Mandalay,  the  old  capital  of  the 
kings  of  Burma. 

Everyone  knows  Mandalay  by  name  from  Kipling's 
poem,  even  if  they  know  nothing  of  the  rest  of  Burma. 
We  came  up  here  from  Rangoon  by  train,  —  it  took  a 
night, — and  by  special  permission  of  His  Excellency  were 
allowed  to  stay  in  this  house,  which  is  usually  reserved  for 
Government  officials,  instead  of  going  to  the  rest-house 
intended  for  visitors,  and  not  nearly  so  nice. 

From  where  we  sit  we  can  look  through  into  the 
wooden  unpapered  bedrooms  behind,  with  the  little  string 
beds  on  which  our  own  bedding  lies  in  heaps.  Rama- 
swamy  has  not  had  time  to  put  it  out  yet,  for  he  has  been 
busy  cooking  our  tiffin.  In  these  houses  the  keeper,  or 
derwan,  will  do  everything  for  you  if  you  like,  and  you 
pay  him  so  much  for  his  trouble,  but  if  you  prefer  your 
own  servant  to  do  it  you  can  make  that  arrangement 
and  borrow  the  pots  and  pans.  Ramaswamy  has  given 
us  already  buttered  eggs,  some  cutlets  which  tasted  goaty, 
with  some  excellent  little  vegetables  called  bringals,  as 
well  as  a  dish  of  mixed  curry,  and  he  has  now  put  some 
fruit  on  the  table,  and  is  bringing  in  coffee.  He  cooks 
out  there  behind  in  the  compound.  I  saw  him  just  now 
bending  over  a  handful  of  sticks.  However  he  manages 
to  get  the  things  hot  I  don't  know.  These  natives  have 
marvellous  ways. 

We  must  rest  a  while  this  afternoon  and  have  an  early 
tea  before  starting  out  to  see  the  palace  which  lies  inside 
that  brick  wall. 

The  tea  is  decent,  the  toast  smoky,  and  the  milk  very 
poor.  Ramaswamy  says  that  it  is  almost  impossible  to 
get  milk ;  the  Burmans  don't  drink  it  themselves,  and  he 
thinks  we  shall  have  to  fall  back  upon  that  condensed 
stuff.     However,   there   is   excellent   jam,  and   that   is   a 


THE  CENTRE  OF  THE  UNIVERSE         273 

good  thing.  Look  round  this  bare  wooden  room  and 
notice  how  little  furniture  one  needs  for  perfect  comfort. 
A  couple  of  deck-chairs,  a  couple  of  small  chairs,  a  table, 
a  lamp,  and  a  waste-paper  basket  !  What  a  lot  of  super- 
fluous furniture  one  does  accumulate  in  England  ! 

What  are  you  smiling  at  ?  The  recollection  of  the 
bath  ?  It's  a  very  good  way  of  bathing,  I  think.  A 
wooden  tub  in  the  middle  of  a  tiny  room  without  any- 
thing else  in  it.  You  can  splash  as  much  as  ever  you 
like,  and  even  if  you  spilt  the  whole  bath  it  wouldn't 
matter  much,  because  the  water  would  simply  run  down 
through  the  cracks  in  the  plank  floor,  and  any  one  who 
knows  anything  here  knows  enough  not  to  stand  under- 
neath a  bathroom  which  is  built  out  on  wooden  legs. 

We'll  start  now  if  you're  ready  !  Hullo  !  Did  you 
ever  see  anything  so  impudent  ?  A  great  crow  on  the 
tea-table  !  Frighten  him  away,  he's  after  those  chocolates 
wrapped  in  silver  paper  that  you  brought  up  from  Rangoon. 
The  cheek  of  it  ! 

When  we  have  passed  over  the  white  bridge  and  got 
inside  the  wall  of  the  palace  we  see  a  wide  space  of  green 
with  a  few  houses  scattered  here  and  there,  and  in  the 
middle  a  group  of  buildings,  one  of  which  has  a  very  tall 
spire.  Inside  this  wall  at  one  time,  the  Burman  time, 
was  crammed  the  whole  of  Mandalay — six  thousand 
houses,  more  or  less.  It  was  the  town.  The  British 
cleared  out  all  the  houses,  and  the  town  is  now  outside 
in  wide  streets, — we  saw  it  this  morning  as  we  drove  up 
from  the  station, — and  the  palace  is  left  here  alone  in  its 
glory. 

That  tall,  many-roofed  spire  is  the  King's  house. 
Only  the  King  was  allowed  to  rival  the  poongyis  in  the 
number  of  his  roofs,  no  other  Burman  might  do  such  a 
thing.     It  is  an  empty  distinction  in  two  senses,  for,  as 

you  know,  the  roofs  don't  mean  floors,  they  are  hollow. 

18 


274       ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

There  is  only  one  floor,  for,  of  course,  the  King  could  never 
risk  the  frightful  indignity  of  having  anyone's  feet  above 
his  head.  At  the  top  is  a  htee,  or  umbrella,  as  there  is 
on  the  pagodas. 

The  palace  is  not  all  one  big  building,  but  a  number 
of  buildings,  or  halls,  each  only  one  storey,  grouped  about 
with  courtyards  between.  We  wander  in  and  out  of 
them,  treading  on  polished  floors  and  seeing  brilliant  bits 
of  colour  framed  in  dark  doorways.  Some  of  the  pillars 
glow  a  dull  red,  others  are  a  wonderful  gold ;  some  of 
the  doorways  are  set  in  frames  of  carved  wood  gilded 
all  over.  We  see  columns  encrusted  with  little  bits  of 
many-coloured  looking-glass,  like  those  we  saw  in  Rangoon. 
The  halls  are  very  dim  in  contrast  with  the  brilliant 
light  outside,  and  there  is  a  kind  of  tawdriness  in  the 
decoration  which  makes  one  feel  how  different  in  nature 
these  people  must  be  from  the  ancient  Egyptians  who 
built  so  solidly.  Here  all  is  gay,  but  you  feel  it  is  gim- 
crack — it  won't  last.  Look  at  that  balustrade,  gleaming 
deep  green ;  examine  it — do  you  see  what  it  is  ?  Nothing 
in  the  world  but  a  row  of  green  glass  bottles  turned 
upside  down  and  embedded  in  cement !  This  place  isn't 
old  at  all.  It  has  not  been  built  sixty  years ;  before  that 
the  capital  was  elsewhere. 

All  at  once  Ramaswamy,  who  has  been  following 
noiselessly,  pushes  you  aside  with  a  cry  of  "  Scorpion, 
Master."  There,  on  the  ground,  difficult  to  see  in  this 
dim  light,  is  a  round  black  thing  about  as  big  as  the  palm 
of  your  hand,  with  a  tail  sticking  out  from  it.  It  is  the 
shape  of  a  tadpole.  In  another  minute  you  would  have 
trodden  on  him,  and  if  he  had  got  in  above  your  shoe, 
well — it  would  have  been  unpleasant  in  any  case,  and 
might  have  meant  death  ! 

He  lies  quite  still,  not  attempting  to  run  away  until 
Ramaswamy's  shout  brings  one  of  the  guardians,  a  tall 


THE  CENTRE  OF  THE  UNIVERSE         275 

man  in  a  dark  blue  uniform  and  red  sash.  He  rushes 
to  find  a  big  stone.  We  won't  stop  to  see  it.  Poor 
beggar  !     Doubtless  they'll  "  lam  him  to  be  a  scorpion  !  " 

When  King  Theebaw  reigned  here  he  thought  himself 
invincible  ;  the  many-roofed  spire  was  "  the  centre  of  the 
universe."  He  imagined  he  could  treat  as  he  liked  not 
only  his  own  subjects  but  that  white-faced  race  who  had 
had  the  audacity  to  settle  down  in  southern  Burma.  He 
soon  learnt  his  mistake. 

Leaving  the  palace  we  go  on  to  see  a  very  curious 
thing  not  far  off  outside  the  walls,  this  is  the  Kutho- 
daw,  the  Royal  Merit-House.  We  enter  by  an  elaborate 
white  gateway  and  find  ourselves  in  a  perfect  forest  of 
pagodas.  They  are  planted  in  rows  and  are  all  exactly 
alike  and  not  very  large.  They  are  glittering  white,  and 
each  one  has  a  slate  slab  inside.  The  Kutho-daw  was 
built  by  Theebaw' s  uncle,  who  acquired  much  merit 
thereby,  and  he  deserved  it,  for  there  are  no  less  than 
seven  hundred  and  twenty-nine  pagodas.  On  the  slate 
inside  each  is  inscribed  some  part  of  the  Buddhist 
Scriptures.  It  was  a  grand  idea  thus  to  preserve  indelibly 
on  stone  the  whole  Burmese  Bible.  Here  it  is  for  all 
time.  Peep  inside  one  and  you  will  see  the  funny-looking 
Burmese  writing,  which  all  runs  on  without  being  divided 
up  into  words,  and  looks  consequently  so  incomprehensible 
to  us. 

What  ?  How  you  jump  !  Wliat  is  it  ?  Another 
beast  ?  Yes,  I  see  him,  that  is  a  tarantula  crouching  in 
the  darkest  corner  and  looking  at  us  out  of  wicked  little 
eyes  that  shine  like  diamond  points.  He  is  a  monster 
spider,  isn't  he  ?  All  hairy  too,  and  his  body  striped 
with  yellow  bands  like  a  wasp's.  He  sits  still,  but  he 
is  very  much  alive  and  ready  to  jump  at  a  minute's 
notice.  They  are  venomous  brutes.  Not  quite  so  bad 
as  a  scorpion,  but  still  the  bite  from  one  of  these  fellows 


276   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

is  a  very  unpleasant  thing.  We  will  leave  him,  he  can't 
do  much  harm  here. 

Now  we  will  drive  round  the  town  and  see  how  the 
people  live. 

Here  is  a  happy  family  seated  on  a  wooden  platform 
stretching  out  in  front  of  their  house.  The  dust  around  and 
over  them  and  in  the  roadway  is  almost  as  bad  as  Egypt, 
but  here  there  is  nearly  always  a  tree  or  shrub  of  some 
sort  to  bring  in  a  flash  of  green.  The  huts  too  are  built  of 
wood  and  mats  and  are  raised  several  feet  from  the  ground  ; 
they  do  not  look  so  hopelessly  crooked  as  the  Egyptian 
mud  houses.  In  the  space  underneath  huge  black  pigs, 
like  great  boars,  wander,  and  there  are  black  goats  too, 
and  skinny  hens  and  pariah  dogs.  Do  you  see  that  mother- 
dog  lying  in  the  roadway,  too  lazy  to  move,  with  six  yellow 
puppies  sprawling  over  her  ?  Poor  brute,  she  is  a  mass 
of  mange  and  so  skinny  that  her  ribs  stick  out  !  The 
people  here  are  taught  by  their  religion  not  to  take  life 
of  any  kind  ;  some  of  the  priests  strain  their  water  through 
a  sieve  lest  they  should  inadvertently  swallow  an  insect  ! 
So  no  one  kills,  even  in  mercy.  All  these  miserable  puppies 
are  allowed  to  grow  up  to  a  starved  wretched  existence,  a 
misery  to  themselves  and  everyone  else. 

Look  at  those  two  elephants  stalking  down  the 
road  ;  they  move  majestically,  and  when  they  reach  the 
pariah  dog  the  driver,  or  oozie,  seated  on  the  first  one's 
neck,  pricks  him  with  a  point  to  make  him  look  where  he 
is  going,  so  that  he  avoids  the  dog.  You  will  see  plenty  of 
elephants  here,  for  elephants  are  to  Burma  what  camels 
are  to  Egypt,  the  regular  beasts  of  burden.  They  carry 
the  kit  and  camp  paraphernalia  for  the  men  who  go  into 
the  jungle  sometimes  for  months.  They  move  the  logs 
and  trunks  of  the  timber  which  is  cut  in  the  forests  in 
large  quantities.  You  remember  the  dark  wood  of  the 
Circuit  House  and  the  poongyi  choung  ?     That  is  all  teak, 


THE  CENTRE  OF  THE  UNIVERSE         277 


ELEPHANTS,   BURMA. 


the  best  knoAvn  wood  in  the  country,  corresponding  to  our 
oak.  There  are  forests  of  it,  and  large  companies  exist 
simply  for  getting  it  out.  There  are  still  herds  of  wild 
elephants  in  the  little  disturbed  parts  of  Burma,  and  every 
now  and  again  Government  catches  them  in  keddahs  in 
great  quantities.  I  wish  we  had  the  luck  to  go  with  a 
hunting-party. 

The  family  which  owns  that  hut  is  seated  on  the  edge 
of  the  platform  and  are  watching  us  with  as  much  interest 
as  we  watch  them.  Two  bright-eyed  little  girls  in  jackets 
play  beside  a  smiling  woman.  You  will  notice  here  the 
girls  and  women  have  quite  as  good  a  time  as  the  boys 
and  men  ;  no  veiling  of  faces  or  hiding  away  for  them. 
Tlie  Burman  knows  better,  and  he  would  get  on  badly 
without  the  active  lielp  and  advice  of  his  comrade  and 
wife. 


CHAPTER    XXIV 


ON   A    CARGO   BOAT 

Did  you  ever  see  anything  like  it 
in  your  life  ?     I  never  did. 

We  are  on  a  steamer  coming 
down  the  Irrawaddy  River  from 
Mandalay,  and  it  is  our  first  even- 
ing on  board.  We  are  not  the 
only  passengers,  there  are  also  a 
widow  lady  and  her  daughter,  a 
girl  a  few  years  older  than  you, 
but  still  in  pigtails,  whose  name  is 
Joyce.  We  were  all  four  sitting 
very  comfortably  after  dinner  on 
the  deck,  which  is  roofed  in, 
making  a  fine  open  room  like  a 
verandah,  when  a  few  large,  light- 
coloured  moths  appeared ;  then, 
as  if  by  magic,  the  whole  deck 
was  suddenly  aUve  with  them. 
They  banged  against  the  glass  of 
the  lights,  thumped  into  our  faces, 

and  whirled  around  exactly  like  a  thick  snowstorm  with 

very  large  flakes. 

"It's  one  of  the  plagues  of  Egypt,"  you  yell. 

Joyce  screams,  pulls  her  long  plaits  round  her  face  to 

prevent  the  moths  catching  in  them,  and  dives  for  her 

278 


DANCING   GIRL,   BURMA. 


ON  A  CARGO  BOAT  279 

cabin.     Everyone  follows   suit,  and   soon   anxious   voices 
can  be  heard  asking,  "  How  many  got  in  with  you  ?  " 

It  is  impossible  to  shut  the  port-hole,  and  in  less  time 
than  I  can  tear  off  my  clothes  my  tiny  room  is  as  bad  as 
the  deck. 

Luckily  there  are  mosquito-curtains,  and  glad  of  them 
we  are,  as  we  can  hear  the  loathsome  soft-bodied  creatures 
blundering  about  outside  them. 

Lo  !  in  the  morning  they  are  all  gone,  and  when  I  get 
on  deck,  and  ask  the  captain,  a  stern  soul  from  Aberdeen, 
where  they  have  disappeared  to,  he  points  to  the  river. 
"  Wliere  would  they  be  ?  Overboard,  of  course.  Dead, 
every  one  of  them.     They  live  but  a  day." 

Leaning  over  the  vessel's  side  I  see  some  of  the  gummy 
bodies,  mere  hollow  shells  now,  transparent  and  fragile, 
sticking  on  to  the  black  paint  about  the  bows.  The 
creatures  are  white  ants  who  come  out  of  holes  in  the 
ground  at  this  time  of  year.  Our  lights  attracted  a  new- 
born swarm.  At  least  that  must  have  been  it,  because 
we  weren't  plagued  with  them  again  in  the  same  way, 
though  the  captain  says  that  in  the  wet  season  it  is  im- 
possible to  sit  on  the  deck  at  all  in  the  evenings  because 
of  the  multitude  of  winged  things. 

"  But  tlien  you  haven't  got  any  hair,"  I  hear  Joyce's 
cheerful  voice  saying  on  the  deck.  You  evidently  reply 
sometliing,  for  slie  rejoins  at  once,  "  Oh  yes,  it's  in  plaits, 
but  they  might  stick  in  them  !  I've  always  had  a  creepy 
horror  of  crawly  things  sticking  in  my  hair." 

"  Cut  it  off,"  you  suggest  brutally. 

This  is  a  cargo  boat.  We  had  much  to  see  at  IMandalay  ; 
we  visited  the  Aracan  Pagoda  and  Golden  Temple,  we 
went  up  to  the  hill-station,  Maymyo,  and  on  to  the  Gokteik 
Gorge,  spanned  by  one  of  the  higlicst  trestle  bridges  in  the 
world,  and  when  we  arrived  back  at  Mundalay  we  found 
that  the  passenger  boat  had  just  left,  so  we  came  on  by 


28o      ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

this  one,  the  China,  which  is  really  just  as  comfortable 
and  not  so  crowded.  She  is  fitted  with  bathrooms  and 
comfortable  cabins  with  little  beds  in  them,  and  on  the 
spacious  upper  deck  are  two  immense  mirrors  so  placed 
that  all  the  sights  on  the  shore  are  reflected  in  them. 
You  can  sit  in  a  lounge-chair  and  watch  them  flash  past 
like  a  continuous  cinematograph. 

The  Irrawaddy  flows  right  through  Burma,  cutting  it 
in  half,  as  the  Nile  does  Egypt ;  and  it  is  rather  like  the 
Nile,  but,  of  course,  not  nearly  so  long,  not  so  long  even  as 
the  Ganges,  though  steamers  can  go  up  it  for  nine  hun- 
dred miles,  equal  to  the  length  of  England  and  Scotland 
put  together  !  The  river  is  wide  and  shallow  in  places, 
sometimes  as  much  as  two  miles  across,  and  at  these 
places  great  care  has  to  be  taken  not  to  run  on  sandbanks ; 
there  is  much  poling  and  shouting  out  of  soundings,  and 
when  we  do  stick,  a  boat  rows  out  with  an  anchor  and 
drops  it,  and  after  a  while  we  ride  up  to  the  anchor  and 
there  we  are  ! 

There  is  far  more  vegetation  to  be  seen  on  the  banks 
than  in  Egypt,  and  the  life  in  the  villages  is  much  more 
attractive.  The  houses  are  perfectly  beautiful — at  a 
distance.  They  are  built  of  dark  wood,  and  stand  on 
posts,  with  wide  verandahs  and  thatched  roofs,  are  nearly 
always  embowered  in  great  trees,  and  have  a  luxuriant 
growth  of  plantains  and  trees  around.  The  spires  of  the 
pagodas  and  the  pinnacles  and  roofs  of  the  choungs 
generally  rise  up  somewhere  in  the  picture,  and  in  the 
evening,  when  the  whole  village  comes  down  to  the  water, 
the  scene  is  charming.  The  cattle  stand  knee-deep  and 
the  people  bathe  and  wash  their  clothes  and  drink  heartily 
of  the  muddy  stream,  and  then  slip  on  dry  garments,  after 
which  the  women  and  girls  stream  up  the  steep  banks, 
carrying  red  chatties  of  water  on  their  heads.  All  are 
lively,  full  of  play  and  chaff.     Their  life  is  a  happy  one, 


ON  A  CARGO  BOAT  281 

because  perfectly  simple  and  natural ;  no  one  need  starve 
and  no  one  wants  to  be  rich. 

All  day  the  steamer  floats  along,  generally  winding 
slowly  across  and  across  the  river  wherever  a  little  red  flag 
stuck  up  on  the  banks  tells  that  there  are  a  few  cases  or 
barrels  or  packets  to  be  taken  down  to  the  market.  At  one 
place  it  is  let-pet,  or  pickled  tea,  though  the  plant  from 
which  the  stuff  is  made  is  not  really  a  tea-plant.  Burmans 
love  it,  and  no  feast  is  complete  without  it,  indeed  a  packet 
of  let-pet  is  an  invitation  to  something  festive. 

It  is  early  afternoon  and  quite  hot  and  still  as  we 
circle  toward  the  shore  where  the  red  flag  hangs  drooping  ; 
people  in  gay  clothes  are  dabbed  about  like  little  splashes 
of  colour  on  the  whity-yellow  sand.  Suddenly  there  is  a 
splash,  and  from  our  bows,  which  are  high  up  in  the  air, 
one  of  the  Lascars,  dressed  in  blue  dungaree  trousers, 
drops  feet  first  into  the  water  like  a  stone  ;  while  he  is  in 
the  air  another  follows  and  another,  until  there  are  half  a 
dozen  of  them  in  the  water,  and  they  go  across  to  the  shore, 
paddling  with  each  hand  alternately  as  a  dog  does  with  his 
paws.  They  are  carrying  a  line  ashore.  They  always 
jump  off  like  this  at  every  landing-place.  They  shake 
themselves  like  dogs  as  they  land,  and  the  sun  soon  dries 
their  one  and  only  garment.  But  it  takes  a  good  while 
before  the  line  is  fixed  up  to  the  captain's  liking  ! 

Then  the  people  swarm  across  the  plank  into  the  great 
barge,  or  flat,  tied  alongside  of  us,  and  a  shouting  sing-song 
begins  as  men  and  girls  alike  hurry  up  and  down  carrying 
on  board  sacks  of  monkey-nuts.  They  work  hard  and 
untiringly  and  always  good-humouredly  ;  the  popular 
notion  that  the  Burman  is  a  lazy  fellow  is  based  on  the  fact 
that  he  won't  work  if  he  can  help  it,  but  when  he  has  to 
he  does  it  with  goodwill.  A  funny  little  incident  occurs. 
The  captain,  walking  down  his  own  gangway,  is  run  into  by 
a  coolie  who  is  licading  up  the  plank  witli  a  sack  on  his 


282      ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

shoulders ;  wrathf  uUy  the  captain  sends  him  and  his  sack 
flying,  and  they  both  land  in  deep  water.  That  is  nothing, 
however,  for  every  Burman  can  swim,  and  no  one  bears 
any  ill-feeling  about  it. 

Crowds  of  little  boys  and  girls  are  dancing  and  splashing 
about  on  the  edge  of  the  water  with  infinite  glee.  A 
mother  comes  down  with  her  baby  and  goes  into  deep 
water  with  the  tiny  thing  clinging  to  her ;  suddenly  she 
lets  it  go,  and  swimming  with  one  hand  holds  it  up  with  the 
other  while  it  kicks  spasmodically  like  a  little  frog.  The 
babies  learn  to  swim  before  they  can  walk. 

Joyce  is  seized  with  a  brilliant  idea.  "  Mother,"  she 
cries,  "  those  toys  we  bought  in  the  bazaar  !  Mayn't  I 
give  them  to  the  children  ?  " 

Taking  leave  for  granted  she  flies  into  her  cabin  and 
returns  with  two  gaily  painted  wooden  animals  whose  legs 
move  on  strings ;  there  is  a  yellow  tiger  with  a  red  mouth, 
and  a  purple  monkey.  Joyce  stands  as  high  as  she  can 
on  the  rail  and  makes  the  tiger  jump  its  legs  up  and  down. 
A  yell  of  delight  from  the  children  on  the  shore  shows  that 
she  is  understood.  They  plunge  into  the  water  like 
porpoises,  and  after  a  minute  Joyce  drops  the  tiger 
straight  down.  It  is  a  good  distance  to  swim,  some  fifty 
yards,  perhaps,  and  the  little  black  heads  bob  up  and  down 
frantically  as  the  youngsters  make  desperate  attempts 
to  get  through  the  water. 

Good  !  Go  it  !  Two  little  boys  about  equal  size  are 
well  ahead  of  the  others  and  rapidly  nearing  the  prize. 
It  is  just  a  toss-up  which  gets  it ;  they  grab  simultaneously, 
but  their  fingers  close  on  empty  water.  The  tiger  has 
disappeared,  sucked  down  by  something  into  the  depths  ! 
Has  it  been  eaten  by  a  fish  ? 

No,  there  it  is,  having  risen  to  the  surface  again  some 
yards  distant,  grasped  by  a  thin  little  arm.  The  owner 
of  the  arm  emerges  the  next    instant,  shaking  back  her 


ON  A  CARGO  BOAT 


283 


long  black  hair.  It  is  a  small  girl,  who  actually  dived 
under  the  boys  and  snatched  the  prize  away  !  She 
deserves  it,  and  holding  it  on  high  lies  on  her  back 
and  kicks  her  way  back  to  land  with  her  legs.  She 
is  a  magnificent  swimmer.  They  all  follow  her  and 
crowd  around  her  on 
the  shore  while  she 
dangles  the  treasure 
in  the  sun,  but  no  one 
attempts  to  take  it 
from  her. 

At  the  moment 
everyone  has  forgot- 
ten that  there  may 
be  more  forthcoming, 
and  when  Joyce  holds 
up  the  purple  monkey 
only  one  tiny  podgy 
fellow  sees  it,  and 
slipping  silently  into 
the  water  exerts  him- 
self tremendously  to 
get  well  out  before 
the  others  discover 
him.  He  swims 
slowly,  for  he  is  very 
small,  and  when  he  is 
half-way  across  the 
others  are  after  liim 
hke  a  pack  of  hounds 
turns    his    briglit    eager 


BURMESE   BOYS. 


but  lie  gets  the  monkey,  and 
face  up  to  us  radiant  with 
dchglit.  One  of  the  elder  boys  carries  his  treasure  back 
for  him,  and  by  the  way  the  little  fellow  yields  it  up 
readily  it  is  quite  evident  that  he  is  not  in  the  least  afraid 
of  its  being  taken  from  him.     His  faith  is  justified,  for  he 


284      ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

gets  it  back  directly  he  lands,  and  then  the  children  dance 
round  the  two  lucky  ones,  singing  and  making  such  a 
noise  that  a  troop  of  anxious  parents  hurry  down  to  find 
out  what  is  the  matter.  Those  toys  will  be  treasures  for 
many  a  long  day. 

The  steamer  screeches  and  we  are  off  once  more. 
Soon  we  see  a  great  sugar-loaf  hill  in  the  distance,  also 
a  perfect  forest  of  pagodas  of  all  shapes  and  sizes  along 
the  river  bank.  This  is  Pagahn,  a  celebrated  place,  now 
deserted  and  melancholy.  Imagine  a  strip  of  ground 
eight  miles  long  and  two  broad,  covered  by  hundreds  of 
pagodas;  it  is  said  there  are  nine  thousand  nine  hundred  and 
ninety-nine,  but  no  one  could  count  them,  for  half  of  them 
are  mere  heaps  of  stones,  so  possibly  there  may  be  one  more 
to  make  a  round  number  !  Pagahn  was  once  a  capital 
city,  and  the  then  Burman  king  pulled  down  some  of  the 
pagodas  to  build  up  the  defences  of  his  walls  when  he  heard 
that  a  Chinese  king  was  coming  to  attack  him;  but  of 
course  he  got  the  worst  of  it  after  such  an  impious  act,  as 
anyone  would  guess,  and  since  then  the  place  has  been 
deserted.  Some  of  the  largest  pagodas  have  been  restored, 
which  is  rather  a  wonder  in  Burma  as  restoration  does 
not  make  for  "  merit."  You  can  see  the  snow-white 
outlines  rising  gracefully  in  the  middle  of  the  rough  line  of 
uneven  buildings.  Unluckily,  instead  of  stopping  here  we 
go  across  the  river  and  anchor  at  Yenangyaung,  where 
there  is  a  very  strong  smell  of  something.  "  I  know," 
Joyce  declares,  wrinkling  up  her  smooth  little  nose.  "  It's 
lamp  oil." 

She  is  right,  it  is  petroleum  ;  there  are  here  wells  of 
it,  from  which  it  bursts  up  with  great  force  sometimes,  like 
a  geyser. 

If  we  had  been  on  a  tourist  steamer  we  should  have 
visited  Pagahn,  but  then  we  should  have  missed  seeing 
much  human  life. 


ON  A  CARGO  BOAT  285 

An  evening  later  the  captain  comes  up  to  say  that 
there  is  a  pwe,  or  play,  going  on  in  the  village  near  which 
we  have  anchored  for  the  night,  and  wouldn't  we  like  to  go 
to  see  it  ?  This  is  a  grand  chance,  because  Burmese  pwes 
are  very  funny  things  indeed.  The  people  have  them  at 
every  chance, — births,  weddings,  deaths,  and  festivals, 
none  are  ever  complete  without  a  play  ! 

We  dine  early,  and,  accompanied  by  the  captain,  set 
out  afterwards,  all  four  of  us,  for  the  village.  The  moon  is 
getting  up  but  is  not  bright  yet,  and  we  can  see  the  trees 
standing  up  against  a  deep  blue  night  sky,  with  the  big 
bright  stars  winking  at  us  through  the  palm  fronds.  The 
village  street  is  deserted,  and  long  before  we  reach  the  end 
of  it  where  the  pwe  is  going  on  we  hear  an  exciting  clash 
of  cymbals  and  bang  of  drums  which  sets  you  and  Joyce 
dancing. 

At  last,  right  in  the  roadway,  between  the  thatched 
houses,  we  see  a  big  crowd,  and  coming  up  to  it  find  every 
man,  woman,  child,  and  baby  belonging  to  the  village 
seated  on  the  ground  or  lying  in  front  of  a  small  platform. 
The  platform  is  simply  a  few  loose  boards  standing  on  some 
boxes,  and  when  anyone  walks  across  it  the  boards  jump 
up  and  down.  In  front  are  the  footlights,  a  row  of 
earthenware  bowls  filled  with  oil,  with  a  lighted  wick 
floating  in  each  one. 

The  Burman  who  is  giving  the  pwe  and  has  sent  us 
the  message  about  it  comes  forward  and  leads  us  to  the 
front  courteously.  He  is  a  portly  man  with  a  dress  of 
rich  silk  so  stiff  it  would  stand  by  itself,  and  a  large  fur 
cape,  like  those  worn  by  coachmen  in  England,  over  his 
shoulders,  for  the  evenings  are  sharp.  In  following  him 
through  the  crowd  we  find  great  difficulty  in  avoiding 
stepj)ing  on  arms  and  legs  which  seem  to  be  strewn  hap- 
hazard on  the  bare  earth,  the  owners  being  partly  covered 
up   with   mats  or  rugs.     Most  of  the  men  are  squatting 


286      ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

gravely  with  bath-towels  over  their  shoulders  —  they 
make  convenient  wraps.  Men  and  women  alike  are 
smoking  either  huge  green  cheroots  or  small  brown  ones. 
Our  seats  are  right  in  front  of  the  stage  and  consist  of  a 
row  of  soap-boxes.  Joyce's  mother  clutches  me  in  horror. 
*'  I  can't  sit  down  there,"  she  says  with  a  gasp ;  "I  shall 
fall  over."  The  captain  misunderstands  her  and  gal- 
lantly tries  one  himself,  saying,  "  It  holds  me,  Madam." 
As  he  is  at  least  sixteen  stone  in  weight  this  sends  Joyce 
off  into  fits  of  irrepressible  giggles,  luckily  drowned  by  the 
band,  which  is  making  an  ear-splitting  noise — "  La-la-la, 
la -la-la  !  "  One  man  bangs  an  instrument  like  those 
called  harmonicons,  with  slats  of  metal  set  across  it  all 
the  way  up.  Another  is  seated  inside  a  tub,  the  rim  of 
which  is  entirely  composed  of  small  drums ;  another 
cracks  bamboo  clappers  together  in  an  agonising  way, 
while  clarionets  do  their  best,  and  a  pipe  fills  in  all  the 
intervals  it  can  find. 

A  girl  with  a  very  coquettish  gold-embroidered  jacket, 
which  stands  out  behind  like  two  pert  wings  in  the  same 
way  as  those  worn  by  the  princesses  at  the  garden-party, 
is  rouging  her  face  close  to  us ;  she  gets  it  to  her  liking  by 
leaning  over  the  footlights  and  gazing  in  a  little  hand- 
mirror,  then  she  takes  up  an  enormous  cigar  which  lies 
smoking  beside  her  and  puffs  away  contentedly  till  her 
turn  comes. 

Two  clowns  are  taking  their  part ;  we  can't  under- 
stand a  word  they  say,  but  their  humorous  faces  and  comic 
gestures  are  irresistibly  funny.  Suddenly  Golden-Jacket 
puts  down  her  cigar,  springs  to  her  feet,  and  gets  across 
the  shaking  boards  with  marvellous  serpentine  movements 
in  a  skirt  tighter  even  than  a  modern  one,  literally  a  tube 
wound  around  her  legs.  Then,  waving  her  long  thin 
hands  and  arms  so  that  ripples  seem  to  run  up  and  down 
them,  she  sings  in  a  thin  shrill  voice  a  long  song,  while  one 


ON  A  CARGO  BOAT 


287 


of  the  clowns  breaks  in  with  "  Yes,  yes  "  and  "  Come  on," 
meant  for  us  and  greatly  appreciated  by  the  audience.  As 
the  song  wends  toward  its  end,  Golden  -  Jacket  looks 
behind  her  more  than  once,  and  at  last  stops  and  says 
something  out  loud. 

"  She's  telling  the  villain  to  hurry  up  or  she  won't  wait 
for  him,"  explains  the  captain,  who  understands  Burmese. 
"  She  is  in  a  forest. 

You  see  the  branch  1    ^^    ^ 

of  a  tree  stuck  be- 
tween the  boards 
there  ?  That's  the 
forest.  She  went 
to  meet  her  lover, 
the  prince,  for  she  is 
a  princess,  of  course, 
but  the  villain  has 
done  his  job,  and 
now  he's  going  to 
catch  her." 

The  princess 
trills  out  some  more 
lines,  and  the  villain, 
who  has  apparently 
been  having  great 
difficulties  with  his 
costume  at  the  back 
of  the  stage,  in  full 
view  of  the  audience,  steps  heavily  forward,  making  the 
boards  bounce  right  up.  When  she  sees  him  she  shrieks  and 
faints  in  his  arms.  He  makes  a  long  speech  holding  her. 
The  clowns  appear  again.  The  heroine  shakes  herself 
free,  and  with  great  self-possession  squats  down  once  more 
on  the  edge  of  the  stage  and  resumes  her  cigar  until  her 
turn  comes  again.     The  branch  of  the  tree  is  pulled  up, 


IN  THE   PLAYHOUSE. 


288   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

and  in  its  place  is  put  a  box  with  a  piece  of  pink  muslin 
over  it,  while  three  men  in  long  robes  come  in  and  sit 
down,  one  on  the  box  and  the  other  two  on  the  boards 
beside  him,  and  they  all  talk  interminably.  The  band, 
which  has  only  stopped  impatiently  while  the  actual 
speaking  was  going  on,  clashes  in  wildly  at  every  possible 
interval  and  now  drowns  the  voices  altogether  for  a  few 
minutes,  just  to  remind  us  it  is  there.  The  men  on  the 
stage  continue  repeating  their  parts,  whether  it  plays  or 
not,  and  apparently  they  are  so  long  winded  that  the  plot 
does  not  suffer  at  all  from  the  sentences  which  are  lost  in 
the  noise. 

"  That's  her  father,  the  king,"  explains  the  captain. 
"  He  is  taking  counsel  from  his  ministers  how  to  recover 
his  daughter  and  punish  the  villain.  She's  a  boy,  of 
course — they  all  are." 

We  can  hardly  believe  it  !  The  slender  form,  the 
graceful  movements,  the  long  thin  fingers,  the  wonderful 
management  of  that  terrible  skirt,  the  coquettish  move- 
ments !  You  can  hardly  imagine  any  British  boy  doing 
it,  can  you  ? 

We  are  beginning  to  have  about  enough  of  it  after  a 
couple  of  hours,  though  the  Burmans  themselves  com- 
fortably settle  down  all  night,  and  there  are  pwes  that  go 
on  for  days.  What  with  the  clashing  music,  the  thick 
smoke  in  the  air,  the  strange  language,  and  a  kind  of 
dreaminess  over  everything,  it  is  too  much  for  Joyce, 
and  she  suddenly  flops  her  head  down  on  my  shoulder 
in  a  profound  slumber,  hugely  to  your  delight. 

Her  mother's  cry  of  "  Joyce  !  "  brings  her  to  herself 
with  a  crimson  face,  and  I  see  you  get  a  surreptitious  kick 
for  giggling,  which  you  richly  deserve  ! 

We  make  a  move,  thank  the  Burmese  entertainer, 
explain  we  have  to  be  off  early  in  the  morning,  and  try  to 
get  out  without  setting  our  feet  on  anyone's  head  ! 


A   BURMESE   PLAY- 


ON  A  CARGO  BOAT  289 

*'  Why,  it  has  been  snowing  !  "  you  cry  in  amazement 
as  we  get  clear.  It  does  look  like  it.  The  moon  is  full 
and  white,  high  in  the  heavens,  and  shows  up  the  dust 
which  lies  thickly  over  the  village  in  a  mantle  of  white. 

I  think  Joyce  is  asleep  most  of  the  way  back.  "  I 
feel  as  if  I  were  drugged,"  she  says  as  we  haul  her  up  the 
gangway. 

Next  day  at  sunrise  we  are  off. 

After  golden  hours  of  placid  slipping  down  the  shining 
waterway  we  pull  up  at  about  five  for  the  night,  and  having 
finished  tea  we  four  sally  forth  for  a  walk,  little  dreaming 
what  is  going  to  happen. 

Joyce's  mother  is  a  most  attractive  woman.  She  is 
well  read,  very  keenly  alive,  and  has  travelled  a  great 
deal.  She  and  I  have  much  in  common,  and,  I  must  say,, 
as  I  help  her  across  the  paddy  fields  I  forget  all  about  you 
two. 

It  is  not  until  we  turn  to  go  home  that  I  miss  you. 

"  They  can't  be  far,"  I  say  reassuringly,  and  give  a 
loud  coocc,  but  there  is  no  response. 

"  They  can't  possibly  come  to  harm  here,"  I  say. 
"  There  is  nothing  to  hurt  them,"  and  I  shout  again. 

"  Perhaps  they  have  circled  round  and  gone  back  to 
the  ship  another  way,"  Joyce's  mother  suggests,  and  we 
turn.  Darkness  falls  very  quickly  here,  and  it  is  dark 
before  we  get  on  board,  but  in  answer  to  our  anxious 
questions  we  find  no  one  has  seen  anything  of  you. 

Joyce's  mother  is  very  brave  and  sensible,  but  I  can 
see  that  her  heart  is  torn  with  anxiety.  I  try  to  comfort 
her  by  telling  her  that  you  are  as  good  as  a  man,  and  have 
been  brought  up  to  look  after  yourself,  but  it  makes  little 
difference.  She  agrees,  however,  to  remain  on  the  steamer 
while  the  captain  and  I  and  a  couple  of  Lascars  with 
lanterns  go  forth  again. 

What  a  night  we  have  of  it  !  We  wander  far  and  wide, 
19 


290      ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

calling  and  waving  the  lights  with  no  result,  and  when 
we  come  back  in  the  grey  dawn,  with  troubled  hearts,  there 
is  still  no  news. 

"  Someone  has  taken  them  in,"  says  the  captain. 
"They're  queer  fellows,  these  Burmans;  they  daren't 
go  out  at  nights  for  fear  of  spooks.  You'll  see  they'll 
bring  them  safely  back  in  the  morning." 

And  he  is  right,  for,  as  the  sky  flashes  rosy  red,  we 
see  you  afar  off  coming  across  the  fields.  A  sight  you  are, 
indeed,  as  you  come  nearer,  with  your  torn  clothes  and 
scratched  faces  !  But  Joyce's  mother  gives  a  cry  of  joy 
and  precipitates  herself  across  the  flat  and  along  the  gang- 
way, hatless,  and  clasps  her  daughter  in  her  arms  as  if 
she  would  never  let  her  go  again.  You  and  I  are  not  so 
emotional,  but  I'm  jolly  glad  to  see  you  again  ! 

You  shall  tell  your  story  in  your  own  words.  I  wrote 
it  down  exactly  as  you  told  it  to  me,  so  that  your  people 
might  have  it. 


THE   FIRST   THING    WE   SAW  WERE   TWO   HUGE   ELEPHANTS. 


CHAPTER  XXV 


JIM  S    STORY 


Joyce's  a  brick.  She  can  do  most  things  boys  can,  and 
we  soon  began  racing  each  other  along  those  little  raised 
bits  of  earth  between  the  beds  in  the  paddy  fields. 
I  splashed  right  in  once  or  twice  and  we  shrieked  with 
laughter.  By  and  by  we  found  ourselves  through  that 
and  out  on  a  flat  place  covered  with  thorns.  They  weren't 
very  high  mostly,  and  we  didn't  feel  them  through  our 
slioes,  but  now  and  again  one  caught  us  on  the  ankles 
and  then  didn't  we  hop !  By  the  time  we  had  reached 
the  road  I  suppose  we  had  lost  sight  of  you  altogether. 
I  didn't  think  about  it.  I  just  had  a  feeling  we  must 
scramble  on   in  that  fizzing   red   sunset   light,   and   then 


291 


292   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

when  we  got  tired  turn  plump  round  and  go  straight 
back  to  the  ship  the  same  way.  I  didn't  really  think 
about  it,  though. 

The  road  ?     Yes,  it  was  a  sort  of  a  road,  at  least  it 
was  a  clear  space  marked  all  over  with  deep  ruts  and  lined 
by  little  trees,  and  it  ran  ever  so  far  both  ways,  as  Euclid 
says  a  line  does.     The  first  thing  we  saw  were  two  huge 
elephants,  striding  along  with  a  wooden  thing  on  the  neck 
of  one,  banging  and  rattling  as  his  head  went  up  and 
down.     A  man  was  sitting  on  his  neck  and  he  took  no 
notice  of  us  at  all,  but  they — the  elephants,  I  mean — just 
loped   along   in   that  swinging  way  they  do  ;    I  think  it 
must  make  anyone  sea-sick  to  be  on  their  backs.     We 
stared  at  them  till  they  got  far  away.     Then  I  discovered 
that  the  little  trees  were  mimosa,  which  shrivel  up  when 
you  touch  them.     They  had  dropped  seeds  on  the  ground, 
I  suppose,  for  under  them  were  tiny  little  mimosas,  not 
trees  but  scrub  stuff.     Joyce   had   never  seen  any,  and 
when  I  rubbed  my  hand  across  them  and  she  saw  them 
wither  up,  she  cried  out,  "  What  a  shame  !     Dear  little 
things,  don't  be  afraid  of  me  !  "  and  plumped  herself  down 
beside  them  to  cuddle  them,  but  they  withered  more  than 
ever.     How  we  laughed  !     The  ones  I  had  withered  first 
were  just  beginning  to  come  right  again,  and  I  was  going 
to  make  them  shut  up  once  more,  and  she  had  caught  my 
hand  to  stop  me,  when  we  heard  a  noise  and  looked  up, 
and  there  was  a  great  buffalo  coming  right  at  us  with  his 
nose  stuck  up  straight  in  the  air  as  if  he  smelt  something 
nasty.     You  never  saw  anything  so  comic  !     Joyce  cried 
out,  "  Oh,  what  a  darling  !  "     But  into  my  head,  quick  as 
lightning,  came  what  you  told  me  about  buffaloes,  who 
hate   Europeans    savagely,    though    a   Burmese   child    of 
four  can  drive  them   with   a  twig.     I  grabbed   Joyce's 
hand  and  pulled  her  up,  and  then  I  saw  he  was  coming 
for  us  and  no  mistake,  with  his  nose  up  in  that  absurd 


JIM'S  STORY 


293 


\]]W'';i\Wjilni 


ALL  AT  ONCE   HE  CAUGHT   SIGHT  OF   MY  TOPEE. 


fashion,  and  his  great  horns  sticking  out.  We  made  a  bolt 
for  the  nearest  tree  just  as  the  buffalo  plunged  across  the 
place  we  had  been,  like  a  runaway  motor-car.  Then  he 
stopped  and  looked  funny.  All  at  once  he  caught  sight 
of  my  topee,  which  had  fallen  off  and  rolled  away  a  bit, 
and  up  went  his  nose  again,  and  when  he  reached  it 
down  went  his  head  and  into  it  like  a  battering-ram ; 
and  didn't  he  make  the  clods  fly  as  he  spiked  his  horns 
into  it.  The  trees  were  not  very  high,  and  had  smooth 
stems  so  far  up,  and  then  a  lot  of  branches.  If  we  could 
get  up  there  we'd  be  all  right. 

"  Get  up  the  tree,  Joyce,"  I  whispered.     "  I'll  boost 
you." 

So  I  did,  shoving  her  up  for  all  I  was  worth,  and  she 
hung  on  as  high  as  she  could  reach,  and  there  she  stuck ; 
even  the  best  girls  aren't  quite  like  boys. 
Swarm  up  it,"  I  urged. 

I  can't,"  she  said  in  an  agonised  voice,  and   I  saw 
it    was  true,  her  petticoats  were   to   blame,  of    course; 


(( 


(( 


294   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

any  boy  would  have  been  up  before  you  could  say 
"  knife." 

Down  she  came  again  with  a  thud,  and  old  Mr.  Buffalo 
heard  it  and  made  for  us  like  a  fiend.  We  ran  for  the 
next  tree  and  dodged  him  round  it ;  it  was  a  bit  too 
exciting  !  He  made  rushes  at  us  dead  straight,  and  we 
tried  always  to  keep  the  trunk  of  the  tree  between  us 
and  him  as  if  it  were  the  leader  in  Fox  and  Geese.  When 
he  came  past  like  a  bolt  we  ran  the  other  side,  but  once 
or  twice  he  nearly  spiked  us,  and  if  he  had  knocked  one 
of  us  down,  or  we  had  stumbled,  it  would  have  been  all  up 
with  us.  It  was  exhausting  too.  I  was  fearfully  out  of 
breath  myself  ;  being  on  a  steamer  a  fellow  can't  keep  in 
training,  and  as  for  Joyce,  she  was  panting  so  that  she 
couldn't  speak. 

Then  I  noticed  that  across  the  road  was  a  jungly 
thicket ;  it  was  not  open  ground,  as  it  was  on  the  side  we 
had  come  from,  and  I  thought  if  we  could  reach  that  we 
might  perhaps  lose  the  gentleman,  or  he  would  lose  us. 

So  I  explained  to  Joyce  in  gasps  that  the  next  time 
he  charged  we  must  run  behind  his  back  and  bolt  across 
the  road ;  she  nodded  and  clutched  my  hand  tighter  than 
ever. 

So  we  did  it  and  were  half-way  over  the  road  —  it 
was  very  wide — before  he  found  it  out. 

All  the  time,  I  must  tell  you,  he  had  been  making  a 
funny  little  noise,  a  bit  between  a  grunt  and  squeak, 
quite  ridiculous  for  a  huge  black  hairy  beast  like  him ;  if 
I  had  had  any  breath  to  waste  it  would  have  made  me 
laugh. 

Now  we  heard  that  funny  little  noise — Uweekuweeku- 
week — ^just  like  that,  coming  over  the  road;  we  hadn't 
time  to  look.  Never  did  any  road  I  ever  crossed  seem 
so  long ;  it  was  like  a  bad  dream.  We  slipped  and 
stumbled  and    didn't    seem   to  make    any  headway,  and 


JIM'S  STORY  295 

every  moment  I  expected  to  feel  that  great  head  in  the 
flat  of  my  back  sending  me  sprawling  ready  to  be  spiked. 
At  last  we  reached  the  line  of  bushes,  and  I  gave  Joyce 
a  great  pull  with  all  my  strength  to  pitch  her  to  one 
side,  for  he  was  close  on  us  then,  and  she  went  headlong 
and  fell  full  length  into  the  bushes,  and  I  dropped  on  the 
top  of  her  just  as  his  majesty  thundered  past. 

We  lay  there  quiet  as  mice,  though  it  was  awfully 
uncomfortable  ;  I  was  squashing  Joyce  to  bits,  and  great 
thorns  seemed  running  into  me  all  over.  Then  a  dreadful 
thought  occurred  to  me — there  were  probably  snakes 
there  !  Which  was  worst,  snakes  or  the  buffalo  ?  And  I 
asked  cautiously — 

"  Have  you  been  stung,  Joyce  ?  "  and  she  answered 
so  gravely,  "  Not  yet,"  that  I  exploded,  and,  would  you 
believe  it,  that  old  animal  that  had  been  rootling  about 
in  the  bushes  to  find  us,  heard  it  and  came  at  us  again. 
We  scrambled  up  and  ran,  tripping  and  tearing  and  crash- 
ing on  into  that  wood,  and  I  think  he  found  some  difficulty 
in  following  us,  for  after  a  while  we  couldn't  hear  him  any 
more. 

We  stopped  and  listened  with  all  our  ears,  but  it 
seemed  as  if  we  were  safe,  for  he  wasn't  a  crafty  animal 
and  didn't  know  enough  to  come  along  quietly  and  surprise 
us.  It  was  very  dark  there  in  that  jungle,  and  for  the 
first  time  1  thought  of  you  and  how  anxious  you  and 
Joyce's  mother  would  be.  So  I  said,  "  Come  along  home 
now,"  and  pulled  hold  of  Joyce.  But  she  resisted  and 
said,  "  It's  not  that  way,  silly  ;   it's  just  the  opposite." 

I  was  positive  and  so  was  she. 

I  tried  to  think  of  all  the  things  one  tells  by :  the 
stars,  but  there  weren't  any,  and  I  couldn't  have  done 
much  witii  them  if  there  had  been;  the  moss  on  the 
north  side  of  the  trees,  but  there  didn't  seem  to  be 
any.     1  guess  it's   different   in   Burma.     However,  there 


296   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

was  just  a  yellowish  glow  still,  and  I  knew  that  must  be 
in  the  west,  and  as  the  river  runs  north  and  south,  and 
we  were  on  the  left  bank,  I  guessed  the  way  I  wanted 
to  go  was  about  right.  When  I  had  proved  it  to  Joyce 
she  gave  in  and  said  she  had  said  it  all  the  time,  just  as 
women  always  do  ! 

So  we  walked  and  walked,  but  we  never  came  to  that 
old  road  again.  Once  I  thought  I'd  found  it,  but  it  was 
only  some  open,  flat,  thorny  ground.  It  was  very  dark 
then,  the  dark  comes  on  so  fast  here.  Suddenly  we  both 
began  to  run  as  hard  as  we  could,  hand  in  hand  ;  I  don't 
know  why,  something  set  us  off  and  I  felt  just  as  if  I 
must,  and  I  suppose  Joyce  did  too,  and  then — crash ! — 
before  we  knew  where  we  were — smash  ! — we  were  flying, 
slipping,  tobogganing  down  through  some  bushes,  with 
our  feet  shooting  out  under  us,  and  at  last  we  reached  the 
bottom.  It  was  a  steep  gully,  a  kind  of  nullah.  When  we 
did  get  down  we  arrived  separately,  for  we  had  had  to  let 
go  to  save  ourselves.  I  was  awfully  sore,  I  know,  and  I 
wondered  what  had  happened  to  her,  being  a  girl  and  so 
much  softer.  But  she  didn't  seem  to  mind  much,  for 
when  I  sang  out,  she  answered  quite  cheerfully,  **  I'm 
sitting  in  the  middle  of  a  bramble  bush  like  a  bumble-bee. 
Do  they  sit  in  bushes,  though  ?  I  think  I'm  getting  a 
little  mixed  !  " 

A  girl  like  that  is  a  jolly  good  pal,  I  can  tell  you  ! 

It  was  a  snaky  place  and  that  is  what  I  was  afraid  of. 
We  trod  carefully  along  the  bottom  and  made  noises  to 
scare  them  off.  Then  I  had  a  happy  thought  ;  I  had  a 
box  of  matches  with  me,  and  I  kept  on  striking  them  till 
we  found  a  handful  of  dry  twigs  which  burnt  up  finely. 
It  was  so  still  there  that  they  blazed  straight  and  steady, 
and  I  used  them  as  a  torch  and  flourished  them  about 
low  down  as  we  walked. 

I  don't  know  if  we  really  did  see  any  snakes.     Joyce 


JIM'S  STORY 


297 


WE   HAD  TO   PLUNGE   THROUGH   MARSHY  GROUND. 


is  quite  positive  she  counted  fourteen,  sliding  away  in 
front  of  the  hght  at  different  times ;  but  then  she  sees 
things  much  quicker  tlian  I  do. 

It  took  us  a  long  time  to  get  out  of  that  nullah,  and  we 
tried  all  sorts  of  different  ways,  but  the  sides  were  too 
steep.  Often  we  had  to  stop  to  get  more  twigs,  and  once, 
just  as  I  had  got  a  handful,  Joyce  said,  "  Wliy,  there  are 
little  plums  growing  on  them."  We  ate  quite  a  lot,  and 
they  were  refreshing  and  bitter,  but  it  didn't  mean  much, 
for  they  were  all  skin  and  stone. 

The  nullah  sloped  up  at  the  end,  and  after  a  good  deal 
of  hard  work  I  hauled  her  up.  It  was  jolly  cold,  I  can 
tell  you,  and  when  we  saw  a  light  moving  about  ahead 


298   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

we  made  a  bee-line  for  it.  Joyce  thought  it  was  a  will-o'- 
the-wisp  ;  she  had  never  seen  one,  but  she  had  read  of 
them,  and  she  said  they  moved  up  and  down  just  like 
that.  We  had  to  plunge  through  a  lot  of  very  marshy 
ground  before  we  got  to  it,  and  sometimes  we  lost  sight  of 
it  altogether ;  but  it  came  again,  and  then  it  went  out  for 
good.  We  arrived  at  a  high  thorny  hedge  and  I  shouted, 
and  then  there  was  such  a  noise  you  would  have  thought 
the  world  was  coming  to  an  end, — dogs  barking,  cocks 
crowing,  people  chattering,  and  at  last  a  man  with  a 
lantern  crept  out  from  the  hedge — it  must  have  been 
his  light  we  had  seen — and  he  was  followed  by  heaps 
of  others,  all  Burmans,  and  they  waved  the  light  about ; 
and  when  they  saw  who  we  were,  and  that  we  were  alone, 
they  were  very  kind  and  took  us  in  through  an  opening 
in  the  hedge,  and  kicked  the  dogs  away.  We  couldn't 
see  much  inside,  for  the  moon  wasn't  up  then,  but  they 
led  us  to  a  house,  and  made  us  go  up  a  ladder  on  to  a 
verandah  and  into  a  nice  wooden  room,  where  there  was 
a  civilised  oil  lamp  on  a  bracket,  and  several  women  and 
children  sitting  and  lying  about  on  mats  on  the  floor. 

Joyce  looked  at  me  and  I  at  her  and  we  both  knew 
what  sights  we  were,  all  scratched  and  torn  and  muddy. 
Her  dress  had  been  white  when  we  started,  but  you  could 
hardly  tell  that  now.  I  don't  know  how  she  felt,  but  I 
was  glad  to  drop  down  on  to  a  mat  they  gave  us.  We 
tried  to  explain  who  we  were,  but  no  one  understood 
any  English.  Then  they  brought  us  some  water  from  a 
great  jar  in  the  corner  ;  they  handed  it  to  us  in  half  a 
coco-nut,  but  it  smelt  so  that  we  couldn't  touch  it,  though 
we  were  awfully  thirsty.  So  one  of  the  men  who  had 
followed  us  in  took  up  a  round  green  thing  with  a  smooth 
shell  outside  (I  never  knew  coco-nuts  looked  like  that 
before),  and  with  his  great  knife  made  four  cuts  across  the 
top  in  a  neat  square,  and  took  out  the  piece  as  if  it  were 


JIM'S  STORY  299 

a  lid,  and  offered  us  the  nut,  making  signs  we  were  to  drink 
it.  Joyce  tried  first  and  nodded  with  pleasure.  **  It's 
good,"  she  said,  and  it  was  !  A  sort  of  sickly  sweet  stuff 
came  out  like  sugary  water,  and  when  you  drank  a  lot 
of  it  it  made  you  feel  very  full  inside  suddenly.  When  I 
read  about  coco-nut  milk  in  Swiss  Family  Robinson  I 
always  thought  it  was  really  like  milk. 

Then  they  opened  a  great  tubful  of  cooked  rice  and 
put  some  on  two  plates  and  gave  it  to  us,  and  they  put 
beside  us  two  little  bowls  filled  with  smashed-up  sardines, 

at  least  I  thought  it  was  that,  but  oh You  would 

have  known  it  was  there  a  mile  off  !  I  would  have  stood 
it,  because  I  didn't  want  to  hurt  their  feelings,  as  they 
meant  to  be  polite,  but  Joyce  stuffed  her  skirt  into  her 
mouth  and  held  her  nose,  and  they  all  laughed  and  took 
it  away  quite  easily.  There  were  no  forks  or  spoons, 
but  we  were  very  hungry,  so  we  just  fell  to  with  our  fingers 
on  the  rice  and  it  wasn't  at  all  bad,  I  can  tell  you.  When 
we  had  done  they  gave  us  some  very  good  bananas — I 
could  have  done  with  more  of  them — and  then  they  tried 
us  with  a  lump  of  stuff  that  was  simply  a  bit  of  wood ; 
it  came  from  the  Jack-fruit  tree.  I  saw  one  growing  right 
out  of  the  trunk  on  a  little  stalk  by  itself  next  day,  but 
how  anyone  ever  eats  it  I  can't  imagine. 

When  we  had  finished  they  poured  water  over  our 
fingers  to  clean  them,  a  very  unsatisfactory  sort  of  wash 
it  was,  and  the  water  ran  away  between  the  boards,  quite 
convenient  that  ! 

When  we  were  satisfied  we  began  to  take  more  notice 
of  what  the  house  was  like.  The  walls  were  made  of 
very  coarse  mats,  and  there  were  no  tables  or  chairs. 
There  were  a  number  of  people  ;  the  father  of  the  house, 
who  had  brought  us  in,  had  a  kind  shrewd  face,  so  that  you 
couldn't  help  liking  him,  and  the  mother  was  a  very  thin, 
plain,  little  old  woman,  with  twinkling  eyes.    Joyce  tliought 


300   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

first  she  was  the  cook,  for  she  had  no  jewellery  on  at  all 
and  no  fine  clothes,  while  the  two  girls,  the  daughters, 
were  quite  smart.  They  were  all  ready  to  laugh  and 
smile,  but  the  two  girls  were  the  most  friendly ;  they  sat 
down  by  Joyce  and  fingered  her  skirt  and  examined  her 
very  dilapidated  shoes.  "  I  wish  they  wouldn't,  Jim," 
she  said,  trying  to  pull  them  up  under  her  very  short 
skirt,  which  was  no  use  at  all.  At  last  she  took  them  off 
because  they  were  so  wet,  and  one  of  the  girls  put  her 
little  brown  toes  into  them,  and  then  they  all  shrieked 
with  laughter  again.  You  couldn't  help  laughing  too,  they 
were  so  jolly  nice. 

I  put  my  finger  on  Joyce  and  said  "  Joyce,"  then  on 
me  and  said  "  Jim,"  and  then  pointed  at  the  two  girls  ; 
they  understood  at  once  and  said  Mah  Kway  Yoh  (Miss 
Dog's  Bone)  and  Mee  Meht  (Miss  Affection).  Then  they 
pointed  to  a  young  man  at  the  back  and  said  Moung  Poh 
Sin  (Mr.  Grandfather  Elephant). 

I  tried  to  make  them  understand  we  wanted  to  get 
back  to  the  ship,  but  nothing  would  do  it.  "  Draw  it," 
suggested  Joyce.  She  had  a  wee  gold  pencil  on  her  gold 
bangle,  but  we  had  no  paper  and  there  was  none  there — 
there  wasn't  anything,  in  fact,  except  a  box.  "  On  your 
cuff,"  Joyce  suggested,  but  I  hadn't  any  cuffs,  only  a 
soft  shirt. 

"  On  the  floor,"  she  said  then. 

I  tried,  but  of  course  the  lead  broke.  They  all 
gathered  round,  much  interested,  pushing  their  shiny 
black  heads  close  together.  It's  funny  that  they  all 
have  just  the  same  sort  of  hair,  isn't  it  ?  They  followed 
everything  I  did  with  the  deepest  interest,  and  then 
went  into  fits  of  laughter,  and  so  did  we. 

Just  then  a  boy  came  in,  not  much  older  than  me. 
He  had  on  very  few  clothes,  and  his  legs  looked  as  if 
they  were  stained  dark  blue.     When  he  came  near  to  me 


JIMS  STORY 


301 


and  saw  me  looking  at  them  with  very  much  interest 
he  showed  them  to  us.  They  were  tattooed  all  over 
like  a  pair  of  breeches,  and  the  pictures  on  them  were 
very  well  done ;  there  were  tigers  and  a  kind  of  dragon, 
like  those  we  saw  at  the  pagoda  steps,  and  many  other 
animals,  and  each  one  was  in  a  kind  of  scrollwork  which 
made  a  little  frame.  He  spoke 
a  few  words  of  English  and 
pointed  at  the  two  men  and 
said,  "  Them  too,"  then,  "  All 
Burmans."  It  is  odd  they 
should  go  through  all  that  pain  ; 
what's  the  use  of  it  ? 

I  tried  to  explain  to  him 
about  the  ship.  I  called  it 
"  ship,"  "  steamer,"  "  vessel," 
"  craft,"  and  everything  else 
I  could  think  of,  but  he 
shook  his  head.  At  last  Joyce 
suggested  "  big  boat,"  and  then 
he  understood,  and  got  quite 
excited  and  told  the  others. 
Partly  by  gestures  he  made 
us  understand  that  we  were  a 
very  long  way  off,  and  that  no 
one  could  take  us  back  that 
night,  but  that  we  could  go 
early  in  the  morning.    I  wanted 

to  know  why  not  now,  but  he  waved  his  arms  and  said, 
''  Nats,  beloos,"  and  looked  quickly  over  his  shoulder. 

"  Nats  are  spirits,"  said  Joyce.  "  I  know  all  about 
it.  The  Burmese  are  frightened  of  them,  and  put  little 
bits  of  rag  at  the  top  of  the  posts  in  the  houses  for  them 
to  live  in,  so  that  they  won't  come  inside.  Motlier  read 
that  to  me  out  of  a  book." 


THEY  WERE  TATTOOED  ALL  OVER 
LIKE  A  PAIR  OF  BREECHES. 


302      ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

We  looked  for  the  little  rags,  but  couldn't  see  them,  though 
I  expect  they  were  there.     Joyce  knows  a  lot  for  a  girl. 

Well,  we  couldn't  go  home  by  ourselves,  so  presently 
we  lay  down  on  our  mats  and  went  fast  asleep,  and  I 
suppose  everyone  else  did  too.  Anyway,  it  was  morning 
when  I  woke.  Perfectly  glorious  it  was  !  I  shall  never 
forget  that  morning.  Joyce  was  out  on  the  verandah 
already,  and  I  went  and  stood  beside  her.  The  moon 
was  there  still,  but  every  moment  growing  paler  and 
paler.  The  air  was  full  of  that  burnt- wood  smell  which 
is  clean  and  rather  nice.  The  sun  seemed  simply  to 
rush  up,  and  in  five  minutes  from  a  world  of  black  shadows 
and  no  colours  it  turned  to  a  world  of  green  and  blue 
and  yellow.  The  houses  were  all  like  ours,  built  on  legs 
with  thatched  roofs,  and  there  were  great  shady  mango 
trees  and  plantains  growing  beside  them.  The  dogs  were 
everywhere,  and  the  people  were  squatting  in  the  sun  to 
warm  their  backs.  We  ate  more  rice  and  drank  more 
coco-nut  milk,  and  then  we  shook  hands  all  round  and 
thanked  the  people,  and  went  away  with  the  boy  to  guide 
us.  His  name  was  Moung  Ohn  (Mr.  Coco-Nut)  he  told  us. 
We  made  him  ^vrite  down  his  own  and  his  sisters'  names 
on  a  piece  of  paper  in  Burmese  on  the  ship  afterwards, 
so  that  we  could  always  keep  them. 

It  was  quite  a  long  way,  as  he  had  said,  but  it  was 
so  beautiful  we  wanted  to  dance  and  jump  all  the  time. 
Moung  Ohn  scolded  off  the  beastly  pariah  dogs  and  led 
us  out  of  the  hole  in  the  great  stockade  and  through  a 
grove  of  palms.  He  pointed  to  two  different  sorts,  one 
was  the  usual  kind,  feathery,  and  coco-nuts  grew  on  that. 
He  pointed  to  himself  and  grinned,  but  we  didn't  under- 
stand till  afterwards  that  his  name  was  "  Coco -Nut." 
The  other  sort  of  palm  had  leaves  like  the  great  fans 
people  sometimes  have  in  drawing-rooms,  at  least  Joyce 
said   they   were.     A   man   was   walking   down   the   long, 


JIM'S  STORY  303 

straight  stem  of  one,  and  I  could  see,  as  Moung  Ohn  had 
said,  that  his  legs  were  tattooed  too.  He  just  walked 
down.  He  had  a  band  round  his  waist  and  round  the 
tree,  so  he  leaned  against  it  and  pressed  the  soles  of  his 
feet  against  the  tree.  I  longed  to  try,  but  Joyce  was 
wanting  to  get  back  to  her  mother.  When  the  man 
came  down  he  had  a  little  iron  pot  filled  with  juice,  and 
he  offered  it  to  me  to  drink,  but  when  I  looked  in  and 
saw  dead  flies  and  insects  by  the  dozen  I  declined  politely. 
He  had  hung  up  other  little  pots  on  the  tree  near  the 
stalks  of  the  great  leaves  in  which  he  had  cut  gashes,  so 
the  juice  dripped  out  into  them.  I  found  out  this  makes 
a  strong  drink  called  toddy. 

We  passed  over  rice  fields,  where  many  of  the  people 
were  at  work  already,  and  then,  after  going  a  good  distance, 
we  got  on  to  the  road,  but  it  was  not  the  same  part  where 
we  were  the  day  before.  I'm  beginning  now  not  to  be 
quite  so  sure  that  my  direction  was  right  after  all,  but 
don't  say  so  before  Joyce. 

Just  then  we  heard  a  most  awful  noise  like  a  hundred 
demons  groaning  and  shrieking  together. 

"  Nats  !  "  exclaimed  Joyce,  standing  stockstill. 
Moung  Ohn  laughed  and  shook  his  head.  Then  there 
came  into  sight  a  slow  lumbering  bullock-cart  with  the 
wheels  screaming  enough  to  give  you  toothache.  Wliy 
on  earth  don't  they  grease  them  ? 

"  Perhaps  they  prefer  them  like  that,"  said  Joyce, 
and  I  expect  she  is  right. 

It  wasn't  long  before  we  reached  the  steamer,  and 
then  what  a  scene  !  When  I  saw  how  Joyce  was  smothered 
I  was  glad  men  don't  kiss.  You  just  shook  hands  with 
me  and  told  me  I  was  an  object  to  scare  crows  with  ! 

WTien  we  offered  Moung  Ohn  some  money  for  his  trouble 
he  refused  to  take  it,  and  went  away  saying  good-bye  so 
gracefully,  bowing  and  touching  his  forehead  with  his  hand. 


wn—i 


SAMPANS. 


CHAPTER    XXVI 


THROUGH   EASTERN    STRAITS    AND   ISLANDS 


In  every  long  journey  there  comes  a  time  when  one  feels 
a  little  dreary.  So  many  new  things  have  been  seen  that 
the  mind  and  eye  are  tired.  Then  maybe  there  is  just 
a  touch  of  home-sickness  mingled  with  it,  and  when  one 
gets  to  a  part  less  beautiful  than  what  has  gone  before 
all  at  once  there  is  a  longing  to  turn  and  fly  back  to  all 
that  we  are  accustomed  to.  It  seems  to  me  that  you  and 
I  are  suffering  from  that  now.  We  have  left  Burma 
behind,  and  for  two  days  have  ploughed  down  the  Gulf 
of  Martaban  toward  Penang  in  the  Straits  Settlements. 
We  did  not  want  to  make  friends  with  anyone  on  board, 
and  were  just  a  trifle  grumpy  even  toward  each  other. 
We  felt  the  parting  from  Joyce  and  her  mother,  who  had 


304 


EASTERN  STRAITS  AND  ISLANDS        305 

made  Burma  so  enjoyable,  and  we  weren't  ready  to  begin 
making  new  friends  all  at  once. 

Burma  forms  the  western  part  of  a  great  peninsula, 
and  stretching  out  southward  from  it  is  a  long  arm,  the 
shape  of  an  Indian  club,  narrower  in  the  neck  and 
broadening  out,  to  run  up  finally  to  a  point.  Alongside 
of  the  broadest  part  is  the  great  island  of  Sumatra,  belong- 
ing to  the  Dutch,  who  are  our  principal  rivals  in  this 
region  of  the  world. 

"  The  captain's  compliments,  and  we're  going  to  set 
off  some  rockets  to  scare  the  sea-birds,"  says  one  of  the 
officers,  suddenly  appearing  beside  us.  "  We're  passing 
close  by  that  little  island  there — Pulo  Pera." 

Now  there  is  something  to  see  we  wake  up  at  once. 
Sure  enough  there  it  is  ahead,  a  little  island  rising  like  a 
cliff  out  of  the  water.  It  is  evidently  deep  close  in,  for 
we  go  quite  near  to  it.  Just  as  we  are  abreast  off  goes 
rocket  after  rocket,  and  in  a  moment  the  scene  is  trans- 
formed as  if  by  magic.  A  dense  mass  of  shrieking,  scream- 
ing birds  springs  to  life.  The  moment  before  the  sun  was 
shining  in  a  clear  sky,  now  in  an  instant  it  is  obscured 
as  by  a  thick  cloud.  You  never  saw  anything  like 
it  !  The  birds  on  the  Bass  Rock  are  fairly  thick, 
but  here — day  is  turned  to  night  and  the  commotion 
and  uproar  are  wildly  exciting,  like  the  clash  of  legions 
in  the  sky. 

Long  after  we  are  past  we  can  see  them  thinning  down 
gradually  as  some  keep  dropping  back  on  to  their  island 
iiome,  while  the  more  restless,  nervous  spirits  still  circle 
and  swoop  in  loops  and  curves. 

A  marvellous  sight  ! 

Penang  itself  is  an  island,  and  as  we  swing  round  to  the 

capital  town,  Georgetown,  on  the  inner  or  land  side,  we  see 

an  astonishing  mass  of  green,  with  a  great  hill  clothed  almost 

to  the  summit  rising  behind  the  town.     We  can  go  up  there 

20 


o 


06   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 


to-morrow  if  you  like,  as  we  have  a  day  to  spend  here  owing 
to  a  change  of  steamers. 

As  we  come  to  anchor  in  the  bay  a  perfect  swarm  of 
small  boats,  called  sampans,  dance  round  the  ship,  and 
the  owners  offer  their  wares  with  astonishing  noise.  Look- 
ing down  you  can  see  the  yellow  faces  of  the  men  who  have 
narrow  eyes  and  pigtails  coiled  round  their  heads  under 
enormous  hats.  It  looks  as  if  we  had  tumbled  into  China 
by  mistake,  for  these  are  nearly  all  Chinamen,  and  yet 
the  inhabitants  of  this  country  are  Malays.  The  Malay, 
however,  is  like  the  Burman  in  that  he  does  not  care  to 
exert  himself  if  he  can  help  it,  so  he  lets  the  Chink,  as  the 
Chinamen  are  familiarly  called,  do  all  the  business.  The 
rich  earth  yields  a  hundredfold,  and  the  Malay  has  only  to 
scratch  a  very  little  of  it  very  gently,  and  plant  or  sow  a 
small  quantity  of  something,  and  he  is  provided  for  for  a 
year  !  The  Chinaman  is  an  industrious  soul  and  an  un- 
commonly good  market -gardener,  so  he  grows  vegetables 
for  sale  and  makes  a  good  thing  out  of  it ;  half  these  boats 
are  full  of  vegetables  grown  by  the  very  men  who  are 
selling  them. 

Soon  we  are  in  a  sampan,  being  rapidly  rowed  shore- 
wards.  The  man  works  the  boat  standing  up  and  faces 
the  way  he  is  going  ;  he  does  it  very  easily,  with  the  ends 
of  his  long  oars  crossed  over  and  worked  almost  entirely 
by  wrist  play.  We  are  right  under  a  high,  old-fashioned- 
looking  trading  ship  now  ;  do  you  see  that  great  eye 
painted  on  the  bows  ?  There  is  another  on  the  other  side. 
That  shows  it  is  a  Chinese  ship  ;  the  men  have  a  super- 
stition that  the  ship  cannot  see  without  these  eyes.  They 
say,  "  No  got  eye,  no  can  see  ;  no  can  see,  no  can  savee." 

Great  rocks  stick  out  from  the  foliage  on  the  hillside, 
and  nearer  is  the  town,  with  its  pretty  thatched  houses 
and  palatial  mansions  and  avenues  of  greenery.  It  is  all 
slightly  different  from  the  countries  we  have  seen  already. 


EASTERN  STRAITS  AND  ISLANDS        307 

and  yet  it  is  difficult  to  say  quite  where  the  difference  Hes. 
Here  is  our  old  friend  the  rickshaw  man,  only  he  is  a 
Chinaman,  of  course,  and  some  of  these  rickshaws  are  two- 
seated,  so  we  can  both  get  into  one  ;  the  man  who  pulls 
starts  off  gently  as  if  it  were  no  trouble.  He  wears 
nothing  above  the  waist,  and  we  can  see  the  well-developed 
muscles  moving  under  his 
sun-browned  skin.  On  the 
road  we  meet  many  Chinese 
women  dressed  in  trousers  ; 
you  must  have  seen  some 
in  Hyde  Park,  I  think,  for 
people  often  bring  them  over 
to  England  as  nurses  for 
their  children,  they  are  so 
clean  and  reliable.  They  all 
wear  trousers  like  that,  just 
plain,  straight  down,  shape- 
less trousers,  with  a  tunic 
falling  over  them ;  it  is  a 
neat  and  effective  dress. 

Whew!  It's  hot!  I 
don't  feel  inclined  to  move 
a  limb  ;  this  steamy  heat  is 
so  much  more  trying  than 
the  heat  we  had  in  the  dry 
zone  of  Burma,  where  you 
and    Joyce    got    lost ;    there 

the  nights  were  always  cool,  almost  sharp  sometimes. 
That  building  you  are  pointing  at,  with  the  dragons  over 
the  doorway,  is  a  Chinese  temple,  and  I  don't  suppose 
they  would  mind  our  going  in  at  all.  It  looks  nice  and 
cool,  anyway.  We  stop  the  rickshaw  man  and  pass 
through  several  courtyards  enclosed  by  high  walls.  In 
one  is  an   open  upper  storey  like  a  first-floor  room  with 


CHINESE  LADY   IN   TROUSERS. 


3o8      ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

a  wall  knocked  out ;  this  is  a  stage.  You  may  well  ask 
how  anyone  in  the  courtyard  can  see  the  play — ^they 
can't  !  Only  the  favoured  few  who  sit  in  the  galleries 
get  a  good  view  ! 

In  all  the  courts  a  few  Chinamen  lounge  about  on  the 
steps ;  they  are  probably  half-stupid  with  opium,  for  they 
are  not  naturally  lazy.  Passing  on  to  the  inner  shrine 
we  see  a  much-decorated  screen,  behind  which  an  image  is 
hidden,  but  we  are  not  allowed  to  pull  it  aside.  The  room 
in  which  it  stands  is  crowded  with  hideous  figures,  squat 
devils,  grinning  dragons,  and  other  disagreeable  forms. 
Before  them  are  empty  tin  biscuit -boxes  full  of  sand,  in 
which  are  stuck  messy  little  tapers.  There  is  a  funny  smell 
of  incense  mixed  with  tallow  in  the  air.  It  is  a  creepy, 
uncomfortable  place,  and  the  Chinese  religion  is  not  one 
that  would  attract  a  stranger  ;  I  expect  you  would  have 
to  be  brought  up  in  it  to  understand  it  ! 

Unfortunately  next  day  our  expedition  to  the  moun- 
tain is  spoilt  by  torrents  of  rain  which  stream  down  un- 
ceasingly, and  time  hangs  heavy  on  our  hands. 

**  It  always  rains  here,  all  the  year  round,  more  or  less," 
says  a  friendly  Englishman  in  the  hotel.  "  If  you  like 
I'll  take  you  to  see  a  well-to-do  Chinaman  who  is  a  friend 
of  mine.  The  Chinamen  are  all  rich  here,  lots  of  them  keep 
motors."  We  gladly  accept  and  go  off  under  borrowed 
umbrellas  to  the  outskirts  of  the  town.  The  house  stands 
by  itself  in  a  clump  of  trees  and  is  very  imposing  with  its 
great  white  marble  pillars  ;  as  we  get  near  we  see  huge 
gold  letters  in  weird  characters  all  across  the  front.  Then 
before  we  have  time  to  notice  any  more  we  are  in  the  hall 
looking  at  a  great  bowl  of  gold-fish,  and  in  another  minute 
our  host  is  bowing  before  us.  He  is  wearing  a  very 
magnificent  embroidered  coat  of  red  silk  with  great  wing- 
like sleeves  ;  the  embroidery  is  a  marvel,  dragons  in  blue 
and  gold,  and  fishes  of  rainbow  hues  disport  themselves 


EASTERN  STRAITS  AND  ISLANDS        309 


all  over  it.     Under  it  is  a   short  black   satin  petticoat, 

rather  like  a  kilt,  and  black  boots  with  thick  white  felt 

soles.     The  gentleman  is  tall  and  well  made,  a  fine  figure 

of  a  man,  and  on  his  head  is  a  little  round  black  cap,  from 

which  escapes  his  pigtail.     He  stands  bowing  before  us 

and  shaking  hands  with  himself,  which,  as  a  method  of 

greeting,  is  perhaps  better  than 

our    own    way.     He    takes    us   W^:^^f^' 

into  a   dark  gloomy  room  full   ^ 

of    cabinets    of    black    lacquer 

richly  decorated 

mother-of-pear] 

sombre  carved  w^ood  chairs  set 

back  against  the  w^all.     It  is  all 

very  costly,  but  to  us  it  seems 

uncomfortable     and     funereal. 

The  chief   things   that    attract 

us  are  rows  of  little  red  pieces 

of  paper  of  odd  lengths  hanging 

over   strings    from   the   ceiling, 

as  if  they  were  drying  after  a 

wasliing-day.     The  Englishman 

explains  that  the  Chinaman  is 

very  proud   of  these,    for  they 

are    all    New   Year's   greetings 

from    his    friends,    and    the 

number    of   them    shows    what 

a    popular    man    he    must    be. 

As  the  Chinese  New  Year's  Day  is  on  April  the  first,  and 

tliat  was  only  a  week  ago,  these  are  all  new;  but  if  we 

had  arrived  at  any  time  of  the  year  we  should  have  seen 

them  just  the  same,  for  they  arc  left  hanging  all  the  year 

round  till  the  next  lot  arrives. 

On  the  whole  we  are  not  sorry  to  leave  Penang;  we 
have  felt  limp  all  the  time,  worse  even  than  we  did  in  the 


A  CHINESE  GENTLEMAN. 


3IO   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 


INTERIOR   OF  CHINESE   HOUSE  AT  SINGAPORE. 


Red  Sea.  The  steamer  we  board  this  time  is  the  Khyher 
of  the  P.  &  O.  Company.  She  belongs  to  the  Inter- 
mediate Line,  which  comes  right  out  to  Japan  from 
England,  taking  about  six  weeks  on  the  way.  For  anyone 
who  wants  change  and  rest  and  no  worry  that's  a  fine 
voyage,  as  the  boats  stop  at  many  places.  We  shall  go 
on  with  her  to  Japan.  As  we  are  starting  on  the  steamer 
we  hear  various  cracks  and  snaps  from  the  boats  near, 
where  crackers  are  being  exploded.  The  captain  happens 
to  pass  on  the  way  to  the  bridge  and  smiles  as  he  hears 
them.  "  They're  not  firing  salvos  in  our  honour,"  he 
says ;  "  they  think  the  ship  is  full  of  devils,  and  in  case  a 
few  have  escaped  and  might  land  in  their  blameless  boats, 
they're  frightening  them  back  again  before  it  is  too  late." 


EASTERN  STRAITS  AND  ISLANDS        311 

It  makes  a  great  difference  to  have  a  captain  who  takes 
an  interest  in  his  passengers  and  bothers  to  tell  them 
incidents  as  they  happen,  though  to  him  they  may  be 
dull  as  ditch  water,  as  he  has  been  through  them  all  dozens 
of  times  already.  The  next  time  we  meet  the  captain 
it  is  growing  dusk,  and  he  points  ahead  to  what  looks  like 
a  black  rock  looming  up  sheer  from  the  sea.  "  Curious 
thing  that,"  he  says  meditatively;  "it's  an  island,  Pulo 
Jarrak, — islands  are  all  Pulo  here, — and  owing  to  the 
quantity  of  rain  which  falls  here  the  vegetation  grows  so 
thickly  it  makes  the  island  stand  right  out ;  even  on  a  dark 
night  you  can  see  it  ten  to  twenty  miles  off.  It  looks 
quite  black." 

We  have  only  one  stop  on  the  way  to  Singapore, 
exactly  midway  between  it  and  Penang,  at  Port  Swetten- 
ham. 

As  we  pass  southward  the  Straits  narrow  and  we  can 
see  the  hills  of  Sumatra  on  one  side,  and  sometimes  funny 
little  villages  built  on  piles  out  over  the  water  on  the 
other.  Pretty  good  sport  to  be  able  to  drop  a  fishing- 
line  out  of  one's  front  door,  isn't  it  ? 

Wlien  the  land  gets  very  close  on  both  sides  we  swing 
round  suddenly,  and  behold  !  we  are  at  Singapore,  which, 
like  Penang,  is  an  island,  and  stands  at  the  extreme  south 
point  of  the  long  peninsula.  It  guards  this  useful  passage 
where  all  the  traffic  between  China  and  Japan  on  the  one 
side  comes  to  India  on  the  other,  just  as  Aden  guards  the 
Red  Sea  and  Gibraltar  the  Mediterranean.  Great  Britain 
manages  somehow  to  pick  up  all  the  lucky  bits,  and  it  is 
not  by  design  either,  it  just  happens  that  way.  I  can  tell 
how  this  one  happened ;  it  was  because  there  chanced  to 
be  a  Man  out  here — a  Man  with  a  capital  letter  ! 

We  go  ashore  and  get  into  rickshaws  and  start  for  tlie 
town,  which  is  a  long  three  miles  off.  We  shan't  have  time 
to  do  more  than  look  round.     Tlie  road  runs  by  the  docks 


312   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

at  Singapore,  which  are  enormous  and  extend  all  along 
the  coast  up  to  the  town.  On  the  way  we  pass  men  of  all 
nations.  There  are  natives  of  India,  companies  of  Sikhs, 
Madrassees  like  Ramaswamy, — who  is  well  on  his  way 
back  to  his  master  now, — Cingalese,  Tamils  with  frizzy 
heads,  little  Japanese  ladies  in  rickshaws,  plenty  of 
Chinese,  and  many  Malays.  The  Malays  are  yellow  rather 
than  brown ;  they  have  just  that  slight  narrowing  of  the 
eyes  which  tells  they  are  akin  to  the  Chinese,  and  they  are, 
as  a  rule,  well-made  neat  men,  wearing  loose  blue  skirts, 
with  orange  or  red  sashes,  and  large  hats ;  some  of  them 
have  short  white  jackets  which  are  the  universal  top 
garments  out  here,  when  there  are  any  at  all. 

The  town  itself  is  astonishingly  well  built ;  electric 
trams  run  everywhere,  and  there  are  splendid  public 
buildings.  As  we  trot  along  in  our  rickshaws  we  enter  a 
large  square.  Do  you  see  the  name  up  there  ?  Raffles 
Square.  Sir  Stamford  Raffles  was  the  man  who  made 
Singapore.  In  his  time,  the  first  part  of  the  nineteenth 
century,  Great  Britain  was  very  anxious  to  give  away  every- 
thing she  had  in  the  East  to  the  first  person  who  asked  for 
it,  as  she  did  not  want  to  fight  about  it,  and  could  not  see 
what  use  it  could  be,  for  the  idea  of  Imperialism  and 
Empire  had  not  been  developed.  The  Dutch  asked  largely 
and  always  got  what  they  asked  for,  whether  they  had  a 
right  to  it  or  not ;  this  enraged  Raffles,  who  happened  to 
be  out  here,  and  so  he  looked  around  and  noticed  that  the 
island  of  Singapore  was  placed  in  a  wonderful  position 
for  trade,  that  it  commanded  the  Straits,  and  that  no  one 
as  yet  had  made  any  claim  on  it.  He  settled  down  here 
and  put  up  the  British  flag.  It  was  years  before  his 
country  finally  decided  to  acknowledge  him  and  not 
give  his  territory  up  to  the  Dutch,  who  immediately  asked 
for  it ;  but  in  the  end  they  did,  and  now  here  stands  Singa- 
pore, a  mighty  city  with  miles  of  docks,  a  colossal  trade, 


A   VILI.AGK    BUILT   ON    TILES,    SUMATRA. 
LITTLE    liKOWN    IJOVS    PLAY    ABOUT   AND    FISH. 


EASTERN  STRAITS  AND  ISLANDS        3^3 


and  a  teeming  population.  There  is  a  statue  to  Sir 
Stamford  Raffles,  as  it  is  right  there  should  be.  The 
Botanical  Gardens  are  worth  seeing,  and  we  can  get 
tiffin  in  one  of  the  palatial  hotels,  and  then  we  must  go 
back  to  the  ship. 

The  scene  in  the  bay  as  we  depart  is  most  lovely  ; 
ships  of  every  nation  are  at  anchor  there,  and  as  we  pass 
out  slowly  we  see  island  after  island  all  covered  with  that 
rich  green  growth  which  is 
the  result  of  the  constant 
rain  and  warmth.  Blue  and 
green  and  gold  is  the  world, 
and  the  little  brown  boys 
play  about  their  water-built 
villages,  tumbling  in  and  out 
of  the  water,  and  living  in  the 
warm  sea  as  much  as  on  land 
day  by  day.  Shoals  of  them 
come  round  us  in  their  cata- 
marans and  dive  for  money, 
catching  the  silver  bit  as  it 
twinkles  down  through  the 
water,  even  though  they 
make  their  spring  from  many 
yards  off.  As  we  get  farther 
out  we  feel  the  difference  in 
temperature  at  once,  for  now 
wc  are  heading  north,  and  the  night  is  cold  and  rough — 
it  is  like  passing  into  another  climate. 

These  are  wonderful  seas,  and  dearly  should  I  like  some 
day  to  bring  you  on  a  cruise  in  and  about  this  group  of 
great  islands  to  the  soulli,  wliich  is  like  nothing  else  in  the 
world  !  There  is  Borneo,  that  gigantic  island,  twice  as 
large  as  tlie  Britisli  Isles,  wliich  belongs  partly  to  the 
British  and  partly  to  the  Dutcli.     The  story  of  Sir  Stam- 


^ 


PIGTAILS. 


314   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

ford  Raffles  is  outdone  by  the  story  of  the  Rajah  of  Sara- 
wak, which  shows  that  even  in  our  own  times  the  blood 
of  Drake  and  Cook  runs  in  the  veins  of  Englishmen. 

Hong-Kong  is  another  island  and  also  belongs  to  the 
British  ;  it  was  given  to  them  by  treaty  in  1841.  As  we 
sail  in  under  the  lee  of  the  island  by  the  narrow  entrance 
to  the  bay  between  it  and  the  mainland,  we  see  what  a 
splendid  natural  harbour  this  is.  High  above  on  the 
island  rises  what  is  called  the  Peak,  and  up  and  up  and  up 
it,  in  rows  and  terraces,  are  the  houses  of  the  people  who 
live  here.  We  can  go  up  the  Peak  by  a  tram-line  if  we 
have  time.  The  city  is  called  Victoria,  and  is  actually 
built  on  the  rock  or,  rather,  on  terraces  cut  out  of  the  face 
of  it,  one  above  the  other.  It  is  strange  to  find  this  little 
British  colony  isolated  here  on  a  bit  of  China,  separated 
from  the  real  China  by  half  a  mile  of  sea.  As  the  steamer 
comes  to  rest  on  the  mainland  side  at  Kowloon  Wharf 
we  must  take  a  ferry  over  to  the  city. 

Once  we  are  there  we  find  a  well-built  town  with  wide 
roads,  tree  lined  and  very  clean  ;  there  are  many  quite 
English-looking  buildings  of  stone,  and  in  the  shops  a 
strange  mixture  of  wares,  European  and  Eastern.  Some 
of  the  shops  are  piled  with  the  rich  Eastern  silk  em- 
broideries, ivory  and  lacquer  work,  carvings  and  fans, 
silver  and  metal  work,  paintings  and  furniture. 

We  have  time  to  run  up  to  the  top  by  the  tramway, 
and  higher  and  higher  as  we  go,  houses  still,  houses  all  the 
way,  and  even  at  the  very  top  there  are  some  houses 
where  the  governor  and  other  important  people  live  in 
summer.  It  has  been  gloomy  and  cloudy  all  day,  threaten- 
ing rain,  but  just  as  we  reach  the  summit  the  sun  comes 
out  in  yellow  glory,  dropping  to  the  West,  and  all  the 
innumerable  inlets  and  bays  are  turned  to  gold.  The  land 
between  stands  up  in  capes  and  cliffs  and  headlands,  rather 
dim  and  misty,  with  the  golden  water  flashing  between. 


EASTERN  STRAITS  AND  ISLANDS        315 

We  are  off  once  more  and  up  the  coast  to  Shanghai,  the 
last  Chinese  port  we  touch  before  going  over  to  Japan. 

Next  morning  we  come  up  on  deck  to  find  a  wet, 
clammy  fog — we  might  be  back  in  England  again — how 
astonishing  ! 

Now  and  again  appearing  out  of  the  folds  of  swathing 
mist  we  see  little  islands  and  gaily  painted  fishing-boats, 
the  owners  of  which  seem  bent  on  committing  suicide. 
The  boats  sometimes  are  junks,  with  the  square  brown 
sails  that  we  have  by  this  time  seen  so  often,  or  they  are 
tiny  little  boats ;  whichever  it  is,  they  seem  as  if  they 
deliberately  tried  to  get  under  our  bows,  as  you  have  seen 
village  children  run  across  in  front  of  motor-cars.  Again 
and  again  we  feel  the  steamer  sheer  off  a  little  to  clear 
them,  and  sometimes  she  just  succeeds  in  doing  so.  I 
expect  the  captain's  temper  is  being  pretty  severely  tried 
up  there  on  the  bridge.  He  stays  there  while  the  fog 
lasts,  but  when  it  clears  a  little  in  the  evening  he  comes 
down  for  a  hasty  dinner. 

Then  we  get  at  him  and  make  fresh  demands  on  his 
patience  by  questions.  He  seems  to  have  a  stock  left, 
for  he  laughs  good-humouredly  when  I  speak  of  the  native 
boats.  "  They  do  do  it  on  purpose,"  he  says ;  "  they 
think  it's  good  joss,  as  they  say, — good  luck  that  is,  just 
to  cross  our  bows.  It  means  a  never-ending  look-out  all 
along  this  coast,  and  nothing  cures  them.  All  the  same 
they're  some  use  when  one  gets  fogged  here,  for  you  can 
generally  tell  where  you  are,  to  some  extent,  by  the  fishing- 
boats  ;  they  run  in  different  colours  and  patterns  at  places 
along  the  coast,  each  part  has  its  own  special  fashions 
in  paint  and  rig." 

He  has  hardly  time  to  swallow  his  dinner  before  he  is 
back  on  tlie  bridge.     It's  a  ticklish  bit  of  navigation  here. 

We  still  thread  our  way  close  insliore  tlirough  innumer- 
able islands.     One  of^them  stands  up  stiff  and  straight. 


3i6   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

pointing  like  an  obelisk  to  the  sky.  It  is  called  the 
Finger  Rock.  We  notice,  too,  very  frequently,  the  white 
lighthouses,  kept  very  clean.  Then  we  go  through  a  pass, 
two  miles  wide,  called  "  Steep  Island  Pass,"  and  are  into 
the  mouth  of  the  Yangtsekiang  River.  Up  this  we  go  for 
a  hundred  miles  before  reaching  Woosung,  the  Gravesend 
of  Shanghai,  which  is  still  twelve  or  thirteen  miles 
farther  on.  Then  a  turn  and  we  are  in  sight  of 
Shanghai  with  its  factories  and  chimneys  and  great 
sheds  called  "  godowns  "  with  galvanised  iron  roofs.  It 
is  a  disappointing  place,  but  as  we  go  farther  on  we 
see  a  public  promenade  and  some  clean,  well-built  stone 
houses.  The  Europeanised  part  of  the  city  is,  however, 
uninteresting,  and  we  don't  care  to  go  into  the  native 
part  by  ourselves,  so  our  chief  amusement  is  watching 
the  Chinese  coolies  loading  and  unloading  the  ship. 
Notice,  they  never  push  things  on  trollies,  as  our  men 
do ;  they  always  carry  everything  slung  on  a  bamboo. 
Even  that  great  lump  of  iron,  which  must  be  part  of  some 
machinery,  there  it  is,  surrounded  by  a  shouting  horde  of 
men,  all  slinging  it  up  by  their  own  little  ropes,  all  giving 
a  hand  to  carry  the  great  mass  along. 

We  have  gathered  very  little  of  China  in  our  short  time 
at  the  ports,  but  we  shall  be  able  to  get  a  better  idea  of 
Japan.  Our  first  idea  of  it  is  when  we  stop  at  the  island  of 
Rokwren  two  days  later  and  take  on  the  pilot  who  is  going 
to  run  us  through  the  far-famed  Inland  Sea.  At  the  same 
time  two  or  three  smart  little  Japanese  doctors  in  European 
dress  come  on  board  to  inquire  into  the  health  of  passengers 
and  crew,  and  give  us  a  permit,  for  the  Japs  are  most 
particular  about  not  letting  any  foreign  germs  be  landed  on 
their  shores,  and  at  every  port  doctors  come  on  board  to 
make  quite  sure  everyone  is  free  from  illness. 

The  next  thing  we  know  about  Japan  is  her  coal,  for 
1500  tons  of  it  are  brought  on  board,  in  little  baskets, 


EASTERN  STRAITS  AND  ISLANDS        317 


CHINESE    PORTER. 


handed  from  one  to  another  of  long  rows  of  men,  women, 
and  children,  all  working  equally  hard. 

The  narrow  strait  that  leads  into  the  Inland  Sea  is  only 
a  quarter  of  a  mile  wide,  and  after  passing  through  it  we 
steam  along  quietly  amid  the  most  beautiful  scenery  we 
have  passed  since  leaving  England.  Everywhere  are  little 
islands,  well  cultivated,  woody,  and  rocky.  Rocks  and 
hills  and  capes  break  up  tlie  vistas,  and  every  time  we  turn 
a  corner  we  see  something  better  than  before.  The  ship 
stops  at  Kobe,  but,  unluckily,  you  have  got  a  touch  of  the 
sun  and  the  doctor  strictly  forbids  you  to  go  on  sliore. 
Never  mind,  we'll  soon  be  at  Yokohama,  which  is  far 
better. 

By  that  time  you  arc  quite  yourself  again,  and  when 


3i8   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

the  captain  calls  us  up  on  deck  you  are  eager  to  go. 
He  points  to  a  solid  triangle  of  rock,  sticking  up  out  of 
the  sea  not  very  far  distant,  and  as  we  look  at  it  a  flash 
of  red  flame  spurts  out  into  the  air  and  something  red-hot 
rolls  swiftly  down  the  scored  sides.  What  does  it  remind 
you  of  ?     It  is  another  Stromboli,  of  course  ! 

"  That,"  says  the  captain  solemnly,  "  is  the  safety- 
valve  of  Japan.  If  it  were  blocked  up  there's  no  knowing 
what  might  happen."  Then  he  swings  round  and  points 
in  another  direction.  Clear  against  the  soft  blue  of  the 
sky  we  see  a  sharp-pointed  white  cloud  of  a  very  curious 
shape,  like  an  opened  fan  upside  down.  It  seems  quite 
detached  from  everything  else,  merely  a  curious  snoAvy 
fan  hanging  in  mid-air.     "  Why,  it's  Fujiyama,  of  course." 

So  it  is  !  The  famous  Japanese  mountain  seen  in 
thousands  of  the  country's  drawings  and  paintings ;  in 
fact,  it  has  come  to  be  a  sort  of  national  signboard.  Now 
that  we  know  where  to  look  we  see  that  the  white  fan 
part  is  merely  the  snow-cap  running  in  large  streaks 
downward,  and  that  this  rests  upon  a  base  as  blue  as 
the  sky.  Henceforward  we  shall  see  Fujiyama  at  many 
hours  of  the  day — never  a  wide-spreading  view  but  Fujiyama 
will  be  there,  never  a  long  road  but  Fujiyama  at  the  end 
of  it,  never  a  flat  plain  without  it.  So  odd  is  the  great 
mountain,  and  so  much  character  has  it,  that  we  feel 
inclined  to  nod  good-night  or  good-morning  to  it  when  it 
greets  us. 

Then  we  enter  the  magnificent  harbour  of  Yokohama 
with  its  hundreds  of  sampans,  junks,  tugs,  ships,  steamers, 
and  every  other  craft.  The  smaller  craft  surround  us 
clamorously,  and  looking  down  upon  them  we  see  that 
in  almost  every  case  there  is  a  cat  on  board  the  junks, 
many  of  them  tabby  or  tortoise-shell. 

"  '  Cat  good  joss,'  as  the  Chinamen  would  say,"  remarks 
a  man   standing  near  us,  "  specially  three-coloured  cats . 


EASTERN  STRAITS  AND  ISLANDS        319 

They  wouldn't  give  a  fig  for  our  lucky  black  ones  without 
a  white  hair." 

Hundreds  of  coolies  are  now  clamouring  for  jobs  all 
round.  They  are  almost  all  dressed  in  blue,  and  those  that 
wear  upper  garments  have  huge  hieroglyphics  of  gay 
colours  on  their  backs — ^these  are  the  signs  of  their  trades, 
or  trades  unions,  as  we  might  say,  and  each  man  wears  his 
with  pride. 

So,  with  a  fleet  of  attendant  boats,  gaily-dressed  coolies, 
and  complacent  cats  surrounding  us,  we  come  to  our 
anchorage,  say  good-bye  to  the  captain  with  great  regret, 
and  make  our  plunge  into  this  new  land. 


GATEWAY,  JAPAN. 


CHAPTER    XXVII 


THE   LAND    OF   THE  LITTLE    PEOPLE 


We  are  standing  in  front  of  a  mysterious  gate  which  is  yet 
not  a  gate.  You  must  have  seen  pictures  of  Japan  many 
a  time,  and  in  some  of  them  there  must  have  been  one  of 
these  curious  erections.  Yet  how  can  one  describe  it  ?  The 
Greek  letter  11  is  most  like  it.  Imagine  a  giant  11  with 
a  second  cross-bar  below  the  top  one.  In  Japan  this  is 
called  a  Torii.  The  one  in  front  of  us,  rising  like  a  great 
scaffolding  far  above  our  heads,  is  made  of  wood,  but  they 
are  often  of  stone  or  metal  too.  They  are  always  to  be 
found  before  the  entrance  to  a  Shinto  temple.  There 
must  have  been  some  meaning  in  them  once  upon  a  time, 
but  it  is  lost  now,  and  they  remain  decorative  but  useless. 
We  have  left  our  rickshaw  and  are  climbing  up  a  long, 
long  flight  of  steps  to  a  Shinto  temple  not  far  from  Tokyo, 


320 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  LITTLE  PEOPLE     321 

the  capital  town  of  Japan.  Very  many  of  the  Japs  are 
Buddhists,  but  it  is  a  strange  sort  of  Buddhism,  not  pure 
like  that  of  the  Burmans,  and  is  mixed  up  with  another 
religion  called  Shinto,  and  many  of  the  people  are  Shinto- 
ists  altogether.  This  religion  is  vague  and  mystical,  with 
much  worship  of  spirits,  especially  the  spirits  of  the 
elements — earth,  air,  fire,  and  water.  Everyone  who  is 
dead  becomes  in  some  degree  an  object  of  worship,  and 
the  Jap  thinks  more  of  his  parents  and  ancestors  than 
his  children — his  dead  ancestors  especially  being  much 
venerated. 

When  we  reach  the  top  of  the  steps  we  find  ourselves 
suddenly  in  a  blaze  of  loveliness.  To  the  right,  to  the 
left,  and  all  around  are  cherry  trees,  covered  thickly  with 
blossom  which  hangs  in  wreaths  and  rosettes  and  festoons 
as  if  moulded  in  snow.  The  time  for  the  best  of  the 
blossom  is  a  little  past,  and  the  ground  at  our  feet  is  as 
white  as  the  trees,  indeed  whiter  ;  for  just  here  and  there 
the  fairy  display  on  the  trees  is  slightly  browned.  The 
scent  is  very  sweet,  and  hangs  in  the  air  like  delicate 
perfume.  In  the  time  of  blossom  there  are  many  outings 
and  festivities  in  Japan ;  people  make  up  parties  to  go 
to  the  orchards,  and  thoroughly  enjoy  their  beauty. 
Come  right  underneath  the  trees  and  look  up,  we  can 
see  the  thick,  heavily  laden  branches  against  the  soft 
rich  blue  of  a  cloudless  sky,  and  in  our  ears  is  the  hum 
of  a  myriad  bees.  It  is  as  if  the  freshness  of  early  spring 
and  the  richness  of  full  summer  were  mingled  together. 

As  we  wander  on  over  the  scented  ground  we  notice, 
a  little  way  off,  a  rather  pathetic-looking  Japanese  in  the 
national  costume,  with  a  flat  board  or  book  in  his  hand. 
He  is  looking  at  us  earnestly,  and  follows  on  at  a  respectful 
distance  behind  us. 

Next  we  come  upon  a  quaint  little  garden  on  the  lines 

of  what  we  should  call  a  landscape  garden  in  England, 
21 


322      ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

but  it  is  all  on  a  tiny  scale,  as  if  made  for  dolls  to  walk  in. 
There  is  a  pond  as  big  as  a  tea-tray,  walks  the  breadth  of 
one's  foot,  wee  trees,  gnarled  with  age  and  twisted  and 
fully  grown,  but  no  higher  than  your  knee.  It  is  all  so 
delicate  and  dainty  and  tiny  that  we  are  afraid  to  walk 
in  it  for  fear  we  should  spoil  it ;  we  feel  thoroughly  big 
and  clumsy  as  Gulliver  must  have  felt  among  the  Lilli- 
putians, and  we  expect  every  minute  to  see  the  rightful 
owners,  wee  men  and  women  the  size  of  a  man's  fingers, 
rushing  out  from  the  little  summer-house  with  the  curved 
roof  at  the  end,  and  crying  shrilly  to  us  to  go  away  ! 

Treading  carefully,  a  foot  at  a  time,  along  the  miniature 
paths,  we  pass  through  this  and  go  on  toward  the  temple 
which  now  appears  amid  a  grove  of  deep  dark  pines. 
The  steps  are  worn  and  hollowed,  and  on  each  side  of 
them  is  an  astonishing  red  figure  of  a  man-monster  in  a 
very  ferocious  attitude,  like  that  of  the  lions  rampant 
seen  on  crests.  These  figures  are  a  dark  hot  red  and  are 
dotted  all  over  with  white  dabs  ;  as  we  draw  nearer  to 
them  we  see  that  these  dabs  are  doubled  up  bits  of  white 
paper  sticking  irregularly  here  and  there  without  any 
arrangement.  We  cannot  imagine  what  they  are  for, 
but  as  we  stare  we  hear  a  foot  crunch  the  gravel  gently, 
and  the  little  Jap  with  the  board  creeps  up  and  salaams 
deeply,  making  at  the  same  time  a  curious  hissing  noise 
as  if  he  sucked  in  his  breath.     He  must  be  very  nervous. 

"  If  the  honourable  sirs  will  allow  this  humble  servant 
to  explain,"  he  begins  in  fluent  and  perfect  English. 

We  are  only  too  glad  of  his  help,  and  not  to  be  outdone 
in  politeness  we  simultaneously  raise  our  hats  to  him. 
He  then  tells  us  that  all  these  paper  pellets  are  prayers  or 
wishes.  People  write  down  what  they  want  on  them  and 
then  moisten  them  in  their  mouths  and  spit  them  out 
against  the  images ;  if  the  paper  sticks  it  shows  the  wish 
will  be  granted,  if  it  falls  to  the  ground  then  fate  is  against 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  LITTLE  PEOPLE     323 

it.  It  is  not  a  very  beautiful  custom,  but  perhaps  not 
quite  so  bad  as  betel-nut  chewing  ! 

Then  the  Jap  coughs  nervously,  and  with  an  over- 
whelming apology  for  daring  to  presume  so  far,  explains 
that  we  ought  to  remove  our  "  honourable  shoes  "  before 
entering  the  temple.  Of  course  we  do  it  at  once,  though 
English  shoes  are  not  meant  to  take  off  and  on  at  every 
turn,  and  wliile  we  struggle  with  our  laces  he  knocks  on 
the  woodwork  of  the  temple,  and  the  sliding  doors  slip 
back  along  grooves,  showing  a  very  aged  priest  who 
smiles  and  beckons  us  in ;  so  we  pass  on,  feeling  all  the 
while  conscious  of  the  mystery  of  a  country  so  utterly 
unlike  our  own.  Inside,  the  floor  is  covered  w^th  thick 
mats,  so  we  do  not  miss  our  shoes,  though  we  step  cautiously 
at  first.  It  is  very  dim,  but  gradually  our  eyes  grow 
accustomed  to  the  want  of  light  and  we  see  lacquered 
screens,  and  little  recesses,  and  bronze  lamps,  and  curious 
images.  Though  it  is  spotlessly  clean,  very  different  from 
the  Hindu  temple,  there  is  a  strong  smell  of  incense  or 
burnt  flowers  or  something  rather  odd.  Our  friendly 
Jap  has  gone  down  on  his  knees  and  is  bowing  his  forehead 
to  the  ground,  but  we  are  not  expected  to  do  that  evidently. 

Two  weird  figures  in  peaked  caps,  fastened  under  their 
chins  by  tapes,  have  drifted  out  silently  from  somewhere 
and  follow  us  as  the  priest  leads  us  round.  There  does 
not  seem  to  be  any  one  special  shrine  with  a  central  figure 
for  us  to  see;  perhaps  there  is  one,  but  it  is  not  shown 
to  foreigners.  It  is  all  vague  and  rather  meaningless, 
and  the  carving  and  decoration  are  unsatisfying.  After 
a  while,  as  there  does  not  seem  to  be  anything  more  forth- 
coming, we  drop  a  few  coins  into  a  bowl  held  out  to  us  and 
prepare  to  go.  Just  as  we  reach  the  door  another  strange 
being  in  a  peaked  cap  appears  with  tiny  cups  of  clear 
amber-coloured  tea  on  a  tray,  and  holds  them  out  to  us. 
The  little  cups  have  no  handles,  and  there  is  no  milk  in 


324   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

the  tea,  but  on  the  tray  are  several  rather  nice-looking 
little  cakes,  only,  unfortunately,  they  are  all  the  colours 
of  the  rainbow — violet  and  green  and  scarlet.  I  utterly 
refuse  to  touch  them,  but  the  English-speaking  Jap 
assures  me  they  are  "nice,"  so  you,  declaring  that  you 
are  "  jolly  hungry,"  eat  several  and  pronounce  them 
"  jolly  good."  We  sip  the  tea,  which  tastes  utterly 
different  from  that  we  have  at  home,  and  bowing  all  round 
again  we  put  on  our  shoes  and  descend  the  steps.  I'm 
sure  if  I  lived  here  long  I  should  be  quite  fit  to  take  a 
position  at  court,  my  "  honourable  "  manners  would  be  so 
much  improved.  There  is  nothing  brusque  or  rough  or 
rude  about  these  people,  you  couldn't  imagine  them 
scrambling  or  pushing  to  get  in  front  of  others  even  at  a 
big  show. 

A  voice  behind  us  says  timidly,  "  Will  the  honourable 
sirs  be  pleased  to  employ  this  humble  servant  as  inter- 
preter ?  " 

We  stop  and  look  at  him.  It  is  not  a  bad  idea.  We 
have  felt  already  this  morning,  even  in  coming  straight 
from  our  very  Western  hotel  here,  how  helpless  we  are 
in  this  land  where  the  chair- men  do  not  speak  a  word  of 
English,  and  where  even  the  street  names  are  in  Chinese 
characters.  This  little  man  is  quite  unassuming,  he  would 
certainly  be  no  trouble  and  might  be  very  useful.  When 
we  stop  he  deprecatingly  opens  his  flat  book  and  shows 
us  drawings  in  freehand  of  scrolls  and  animals  that  he 
has  made.  He  explains  that  he  tries  to  get  a  living  by 
offering  such  designs  to  the  shops,  but  that  he  would 
like  better  to  be  interpreter  to  us,  as  he  wishes  to  perfect 
his  English.  The  terms  he  asks  are  absurdly  moderate. 
Yes,  we  will  have  him. 

We  engage  him  then  and  there,  and  he  enters  our  service 
at  once ;  there  is  no  need  for  delay,  for  he  is  apparently 
not  encumbered  with  anything  beyond  his  drawing-book. 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  LITTLE  PEOPLE     325 


RICKSHAW. 


He  brightens  up  wonderfully  when  we  say  "yes."  Poor 
little  chap,  I  expect  he  is  half  starved.  In  most  countries 
it  would  be  rash  indeed  to  engage  a  man  at  sight  without 
any  sort  of  written  "  character,"  but  there  is  a  simplicity 
and  honesty  about  this  one  which  gives  us  confidence  in 
him.  I  am  sure  he  would  never  cheat  us  deliberately, 
anyway,  I  am  quite  ready  to  risk  it. 

We  tell  him  that  what  we  want  is  to  see  something  of 
Tokyo  to-day,  and  then  to  go  off  into  the  country  and  try 
to  get  a  glimpse  of  the  real  Japanese  life,  un-Europeanised, 
in  some  small  village  where  we  could  stay  at  a  little  country 
inn  for  a  day  or  two.  He  enters  into  tlie  scheme  at  once 
and  says  that  he  will  have  the  plans  all  ready  to  suggest 
to  us  this  evening.  Meantime  he  takes  command,  and 
after  seeing  us  into  our  waiting  rickshaws,  calls  up  another 
for  liimsclf,  gives  the  three  men  directions,  and  off  we  go. 

As  we  run  back  to  the  town  we  notice  the  houses 
standing  by  themselves  in  the  suburbs,  quite  good,  large 
houses,  some  of  them,  surrounded  by  their  own  gardens, 
shut  in  by  high  walls  so  that  only  the  sloping  red-tiled 
roofs,  curved  up  at  tlie  end,  are  visible.  Some  of  these 
are  two  storeys  high,  but  when  we  get  into  tiie  town  we  see 


326   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

at  first  only  rows  and  rows  of  one-storey  houses.  There 
are  frequent  earthquakes  in  Japan,  and  to  build  many- 
storeyed  blocks  would  mean  frightful  disaster  and  loss  of 
life.  As  it  is,  the  people  can  rush  quickly  out  of  their 
little  homes  into  the  streets  at  the  first  signs  of  a  shaking. 
What  do  you  notice  about  the  streets  that  strikes  you 
most  particularly  ?  To  me  it  is  the  colouring — ^blue. 
You  remember  that  in  Burma  there  was  practically  no 
blue ;  the  people  wore  red  and  pink  and  magenta  and 
orange,  but  they  seemed  one  and  all  to  avoid  blue.  I  used 
to  think  it  was  because  they  knew  that  blue  would  not 
suit  their  sallow,  yellowish  complexions  ;  but  the  Japanese 
are  just  as  yellow,  in  fact  more  so,  for  the  Burmese  yellow 
is  a  kind  of  coffee  colour,  and  theirs  real  saffron,  and  yet 
the  Japs  are  very  fond  of  blue.  The  coolies  and  work- 
men all  dress  in  it,  with  those  astonishing  signs  on  their 
backs  that  we  noticed  first  at  Yokohama,  and  the  shops 
have  blue  banners  hanging  out  beside  them.  These  are 
for  their  names — ^they  are  signboards,  in  fact.  Instead 
of  running  across  horizontally,  as  our  writing  does,  the 
Japanese  writing — which  is  the  same  as  the  Chinese, 
though  the  spoken  language  is  different — ^runs  vertically. 
A  Jap  does  many  things  exactly  the  opposite  way  from 
what  we  do.  He  begins  to  read  a  book  from  what  we 
should  consider  the  end,  backwards,  and  instead  of  going 
along,  he  goes  up  and  down  a  line  ;  and  the  long  thin 
strips,  with  those  mysterious  cabalistic  signs  on  them, 
are  the  shopkeepers'  names  and  businesses.  The  shops 
are  all  open  to  the  street,  without  glass,  in  this  quarter ; 
they  are  just  what  we  should  call  stalls ;  most  of  them 
seem  to  be  greengrocers'  or  fruiterers'.  And  in  the  first 
there  are  always  prominently  in  front  huge  vegetables 
like  gigantic  radishes  or  elongated  turnips  ;  the  people 
eat  them  largely,  though  to  a  European  both  the  flavour 
and  the  smell  are  nasty.     In  the  fish  shops  the  funniest 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  LITTLE  PEOPLE     327 

things  to  be  seen  are  great  black  devil-fish,  or  octopuses, 
with  their  lumpy  round  bodies  and  black  tentacles  stretch- 
ing out  on  all  sides.  They  are  loathsome  to  look  at, 
but  the  Japs  are  not  the  only  people  who  use  them  for 
food  ;  in  parts  of  Italy  the  peasants  eat  them  as  a  staple 
dish  whenever  they  can  catch  them. 

There  are  no  pavements  here,  and  the  streets  are 
very  muddy  after  last  night's 
heavy  rain,  but  it  doesn't  seem 
to  matter  a  bit  to  the  numerous 
inhabitants.  All  those  who  can 
afford  it  go  in  rickshaws,  which 
pass  us  every  minute,  and  the 
others  wear  clogs  which  lift  them 
high  out  of  the  dirt.  These  clogs 
are  called  geta,  and  they  are  the 
funniest  footwear  to  be  found 
anywhere.  You  would  find  it 
more  difficult  to  get  about  on 
them  than  on  roller-skates,  but 
the  Japs  are  so  much  used  to 
them  that  they  trip  along  morn- 
ing, noon,  and  night  in  them 
without  being  the  least  tired. 
They  are  simply  little  stools  of 
wood,  one  flat  piece  being 
supported  by  two  smaller  ones 
at  the  toe  and  heel,  and  they 
are  held  on  by  straps  across  the  foot.  Men,  women,  and 
children  are  thus  raised  inches  out  of  the  mud,  and  patter 
about,  ting-tang,  ting-tang,  all  day  long.  Some  of  the 
women  have  coarse  white  stockings  made  with  a  separate 
stall  for  the  big  toe,  on  the  model  of  a  baby's  glove,  so 
that  the  geta  strap  can  go  through. 

We  have  now  got  into  the  middle  of  the  towTi  where 


GETA   CLOGS. 


328      ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

the  more  populous  streets  are.  You  ought  to  notice 
how  the  colours  of  the  clothes  differ  for  the  different  ages 
of  the  people  :  the  grandmothers  and  grandfathers  wear 
dark  purples  and  sombre  hues ;  the  middle-aged  people 
have  soft  colouring,  grey  greens  and  palish  shades ;  and 
the  children  are  very  gay,  in  every  imaginable  colour  and 
often  all  mixed  together.  The  girls  have  all  a  broad 
sash  called  an  obi,  humped  up  in  a  funny  way  behind  their 
bodies  ;  in  the  children  this  becomes  a  great  bow  like 
the  wings  of  a  butterfly.  The  people  are  small,  and  were 
it  not  for  the  clogs  they  would  look  smaller  still ;  their 
country  is  not  little,  for  Japan  is  larger  than  the  United 
Kingdom,  but  the  people  are  rarely  tall,  and  they  are 
slenderly  built,  with  small  bones,  so  that  being  among 
them  makes  an  ordinary  fair-sized  Englishman  feel 
clumsy  and  long-limbed.  Now  we  are  in  the  main  street 
of  all.  Here  comes  a  tram  filled  with  Japanese,  all 
smiling  and  chattering  and  looking  happy  ;  they  take 
life  with  a  smile.  The  houses  here  are  larger  than  those 
we  have  passed,  and  some  are  just  European  buildings  of 
stone,  and  the  shop-windows  are  filled  with  glass,  and  show 
as  fine  a  display  as  in  the  best  London  shops.  There  are 
many  entirely  for  the  sale  of  Western  things,  and  others 
for  the  things  of  the  country — ^the  beautiful  embroideries 
and  silks,  and  silver-work  and  lacquer-work  and  carving, 
which  you  know  so  well  by  sight  at  home,  for  it  is  sent  over 
in  large  quantities  now,  and  anyone  can  buy  it  in  London 
as  cheaply  as  here. 

As  we  near  our  hotel  we  tell  the  interpreter,  whose 
"  honourable  name  "  we  have  learned  is  Yosoji, — every- 
thing belonging  to  other  people  is  "  honourable  "  here, — 
that  we  would  like  to  see  the  palace  where  the  Emperor 
lives ;  so  he  gives  an  order  to  the  rickshaw  man,  and  we 
set  out  once  more. 

On  the  way  we  see  many  open  spaces  and  pass  through 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  LITTLE  PEOPLE     329 

a  park,  but  when  we  get  to  the  palace  we  find  that  no  one 
is  allowed  to  go  in,  and  we  can  only  drive  round  by  the 
walls  and  moat.  The  Mikado,  or  Emperor,  is  worshipped 
by  most  of  his  people  ;  he  is  in  the  position  of  a  god, 
and  it  is  no  mere  expression  of  speech  to  say  that  every 
schoolboy  would  be  proud  and  glad  to  die  for  him. 
There  is  no  country  in  the  world  whose  people  are  more 
passionately  devoted  to  their  fatherland  than  the  Japs. 
The  idea  of  prominent  Japanese  going  about  in  foreign 
countries  trying  to  belittle  their  own,  or  undermine  her 
power  in  the  countries  she  has  won  by  the  sword,  is  un- 
thinkable. 

Later  in  the  afternoon,  coming  out  again  from  our 
hotel,  we  find  Yosoji  waiting  for  us,  and  we  tell  him  we 
want  to  walk  about  on  foot  to  look  at  some  of  the  shops. 
He  protests,  and  we  can  see  he  thinks  us  almost  out  of 
our  minds  to  suggest  going  on  foot.  He  pleads  earnestly 
that  rickshaws  are  very  cheap.  We  have  to  explain  that 
it  is  not  the  money  we  are  thinking  of,  but  that  we  really 
prefer  to  go  on  foot.  He  doesn't  believe  it — he  can't, 
because  no  Japanese  would  prefer  to  go  on  foot  when 
he  could  ride.  So  we  take  no  further  notice  of  him  and 
just  walk  away,  leaving  him  to  follow  humbly  and  de- 
spairingly. We  have  not  taken  many  steps  when  a  whole 
flight  of  rickshaw  men  swoop  across  the  road  and  are  on 
our  heels,  crying  out,  "  Rickshaw,  rickshaw,  shaw,  shaw, 
r'sha,"  like  our  old  friends  the  pests  of  Egypt.  We  pre- 
tend not  to  hear,  and  walk  on  with  what  dignity  we  can, 
but  they  follow  persistently,  almost  trampling  on  our 
lieels,  and  reiterating  their  cries  all  the  time.  They  can 
only  imagine  we  must  be  deaf  and  blind.  The  crowd 
grows  greater,  the  street  is  getting  blocked.  We  pass  a 
Japanese  policeman  in  a  stiff  and  badly  made  uniform, 
and  are  seized  with  sudden  hope  that  he  will  send  the 
offenders  flying,  but  he  does  nothing  of  the  sort ;  he  fumbles 


330   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

in  his  pocket,  brings  out  a  little  text-book  of  English,  and 
laboriously  reads  out,  "  Please  secure  me  a  good  rick- 
shaw," and  looks  at  us  triumphantly  as  if  he  had  solved 
the  difficulty  ! 

I  have  no  moral  courage  ;  I  don't  know  if  you  have 
more,  anyway,  let  us  take  two  and  then  they  can  follow 
us  if  they  like,  and  the  others  will  go  away.  Accordingly 
we  give  orders  to  Yosoji,  who  bows,  only  half -satisfied, 
and  interprets  our  orders.  The  plan  works,  the  other 
men  slink  off,  and  the  two  selected  ones  follow  us  limply 
at  a  foot's  pace. 

What  I  am  really  making  for  is  a  little  print  shop  I 
saw  as  we  passed  along  here  this  morning,  with  a  number 
of  Japanese  drawings  in  the  window.  They  are  so  queer, 
so  well  done,  and  yet  so  conventional  that  they  have 
a  charm  of  their  own.  Here  it  is  !  Look  at  that  extra- 
ordinary picture  of  the  great  fish  breaking  through  a  hole 
in  the  blocks  of  ice  !  The  ice  looks  cold,  it  is  very  well 
done,  but  the  little  bits  of  spray  loop  up  round  the  fish  in 
a  stiff  frill  of  a  regular  pattern.  Then  there  is  that  one 
of  the  sea.  It  gives  one  a  tremendous  idea  of  a  heavy 
lowering  storm  with  the  great  indigo  waves  curling  over 
that  doomed  boat,  yet  the  edge  of  every  wave  has  a  sort  of 
lace  frill  on  it  exactly  alike  !  I  must  have  those  to  take 
home  ;   they  won't  take  up  any  room. 

As  we  enter  the  Jap  lady  who  is  selling  the  prints 
gives  a  long  hiss.  She  bows  profoundly,  and  so  do  we. 
They  won't  know  us  when  we  get  home  ! 

"  But  why  did  she  hiss  ?  "  you  ask  Yosoji.  He  says 
it  is  a  sign  of  respect.  Oh  !  I  thought  they  were  nervous  ! 
How  funny  !  As  long  as  they  don't  expect  me  to  do  it 
back  again — I  can  manage  the  bowing  when  there  is  no  one 
there  but  you  to  see,  but  if  I  tried  to  hiss  I  should  break 
down  in  the  middle  !  I  take  out  my  purse  to  pay  for  the 
print.     The  money  here  is  confusing,  because  there  are 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  LITTLE  PEOPLE     331 

yen  and  sen.  A  yen  is  equal  to  two  shillings  and  a  half- 
penny, and  a  sen  is  only  the  hundredth  part  of  a  yen,  or 
about  a  farthing.  In  order  to  reckon  the  change  the  old 
lady  takes  up  a  frame  with  beads  strung  across  it  on  wires ; 
I  believe  it's  called  an  abacus,  and  they  use  them  in  kinder- 
garten schools  to  teach  children  to  count.  She  must  be  an 
ignorant  old  dame,  and  yet  she  looks  wholly  respectable. 
I  wonder  what  Yosoji  thinks  of  it.  When  we  look  at  him 
he  is  quite  demure  and  solemn  and  doesn't  seem  to  notice 
anything  odd. 

Coming  out  of  the  shop  we  find  the  dearest  trio  of 
children  gazing  at  us.  Of  all  the  sights  in  Japan  the 
children  are  the  most  fascinating.  They  are  so  funnily 
dressed,  like  the  odd  little  Jap  dolls  English  children  buy. 
These  three  are  clad  very  magnificently  in  kimonos  of 
silk  crape,  very  soft,  and  brilliantly  coloured,  with  huge 
coloured  sashes.  Their  little  heads,  with  straight  all- 
round  fringes  of  black  hair  sticking  out  like  brushes,  are 
deliciously  comic.  They  regard  us  gravely  and  without 
any  fear  or  shyness. 

It  is  getting  dark  ;  suddenly  someone  lights  a  Chinese 
lantern  across  the  street,  and  almost  as  if  it  were  a 
given  signal  another  pops  out  and  another  and  another. 
Chinese  lanterns  with  us  are  used  for  decoration,  and  it  is 
impossible  to  help  feeling  as  if  it  were  a  festival  when  we 
see  them  gleaming  along  the  street  among  the  coloured 
streamers. 

Altogether  the  lanterns,  the  gay  dresses,  the  smiling 
faces,  the  funny  sliops,  the  clear  deep  blue  of  a  perfect 
evening  sky  seen  overhead,  make  a  glorious  picture. 
Shut  your  eyes  and  "  think  back  "  a  moment.  Tliink 
of  Oxford  Street  on  a  wet  night  when  the  shops  are  shut 
and  the  high  arc-lights  shine  down  coldly  on  rigid  lines 
and  bleak  grey  walls  ! 


A  JAP  VILLAGE. 


CHAPTER    XXVIII 


IN   A   JAPANESE   INN 


If  we  received  a  slight  shock  when  we  saw  the  woman  in 
the  shop  adding  up  by  the  help  of  beads,  what  about  the 
booking-clerk  at  the  station  ?  He  seems  unable  to  give 
the  simplest  change  without  this  sort  of  reckoning.  Comic, 
isn't  it  ?  Picture  the  clerks  at  Euston  fumbling  away 
at  their  beads  while  an  impatient  throng  elbowed  one 
another  before  the  pigeon-hole  ! 

The  station  is  quite  small,  merely  a  shed  with  a  wooden 
roof  set  on  posts.  We  are  going  second-class  and  taking 
Yosoji  with  us,  so  that  we  shall  see  some  of  the  native 
life. 

The  trains  are  corridor,  with  the  seats  lengthwise  and 
across  the  ends.  Many  of  the  Japs  are  sitting  sideways 
on  them  with  their  feet  tucked  under  them, — they  are  not 
used  to  have  them  hanging  down, — but  one  grand  gentle- 
man, directly  opposite  to  us,  is  quite  European  in  his  top 


332 


IN  A  JAPANESE  INN  333 

hat  and  long  coat,  and  his  feet  are  on  the  floor  as  to  the 
manner  born. 

We  have  not  been  long  started  before  he  begins  to 
fidget  and  shuffle,  and  presently  he  hauls  up  a  wicker 
basket  beside  him,  undoes  it,  and  fishes  out  a  very  nice 
dark  purple  kimono.  His  top  hat  goes  into  the  rack. 
His  collar,  tie,  and  stud  disappear.  His  coat  comes  off 
and  is  carefully  folded  on  the  seat.  We  watch  the  gradual 
unpeeling  with  an  absorbed  interest,  wondering  how  far  it 
will  go.  Luckily  there  are  no  ladies  present  !  We  can 
stare  as  much  as  we  like  without  being  rude,  because 
everyone  else  in  the  carriage  has  their  eyes  fixed  with 
a  straight  unwinking  stare  upon  us.  It  is  difficult  to 
realise  that  we  are  more  entertaining  to  them  than  the 
gentleman  who  is  disrobing  himself  with  ineffable  dignity 
in  public,  is  to  us. 

He  has  now  slipped  on  the  kimono  over  his  remaining 
garments,  tliere  is  a  little  twist,  and  a  slight,  a  very  slight 
struggle,  and  in  some  miraculous  way  the  rest  of  his 
European  outfit  glides  off  underneath  the  kimono,  neatly 
folded.  It  is  like  a  conjuring  trick  !  Last  of  all  come  off 
the  boots  also,  and  with  his  stockinged  feet  tucked  up 
under  him  he  sits  transformed  into  the  Complete  Jap. 
Judging  from  the  lack  of  interest  taken  in  the  performance 
by  his  fellow-countrymen,  it  must  be  quite  a  usual  thing 
to  undress  in  trains. 

Having  finished  his  task  the  gentleman  on  the  seat 
turns  to  us  and  asks  innumerable  questions.  Where 
have  we  come  from  ?  Where  are  we  going  to  ?  How  do 
we  like  Japan  ?  Is  it  not  a  very  poor,  mean  country 
compared  with  the  glorious  and  august  land  we  belong 
to  ?  All  this  is  interpreted  by  Yosoji,  who  no  doubt 
puts  our  answers  into  the  flowery  language  Japanese 
courtesy  demands  ;  for  instance,  when  I  say  that  I  like 
Japan  very  much,  I  am  sure,  from  the  breatliless  sentence 


334      ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

that  follows,  that  he  is  saying  that  the  strangers  think 
the  honourable  country  of  Japan  far  more  beautiful  and 
wonderful  than  their  own  poor  land.  The  man  opposite 
does  not  for  a  moment  think  really  that  England  is  to 
be  compared  with  Japan,  but  in  Japan  people  are  taught 
to  talk  like  that,  and  must  often  think  us  very  rude  and 
abrupt. 

It  is  not  a  long  journey,  and  after  an  hour  or  so  of 
passing  through  pretty,  hilly  country,  with  many  bushy 
pine  trees  dotted  about,  we  stop  at  a  station  which  Yosoji 
says  is  our  destination.  It  is  a  good  thing  we  have  Yosoji 
with  us,  for  certainly  we  could  never  have  discovered  the 
name  of  the  station  for  ourselves.  We  see  a  long  scroll 
covered  with  Chinese  characters,  and  other  smaller  scrolls 
ornamented  in  the  same  way,  these  are,  of  course,  the  name 
of  the  station  and  the  inscriptions  on  various  waiting- 
rooms,  but  they  leave  us  none  the  wiser.  I  ask  Yosoji 
how  any  European  travelling  alone  could  discover  where 
he  had  got  to,  and  he  smilingly  points  out  a  board  at  the 
extreme  end  of  the  station  with  some  of  our  own  lettering 
on  it.  No  one  could  possibly  see  it  from  the  incoming 
train. 

We  still  feel  absurdly  big  as  we  get  out  of  the  little 
train  on  its  little  narrow  gauge  line  and  wait  while  Yosoji 
captures  our  luggage  from  the  van.  It  is  packed  in  great 
baskets  which  fit  into  each  other  like  two  lids  ;  we  see  them 
in  England  often,  but  there  they  are  rather  looked  down 
upon,  here  they  are  quite  the  correct  thing.  Indeed, 
among  all  the  luggage  in  the  van  there  is  no  trunk  or 
wooden  or  tin  box  at  all,  only  a  great  pile  of  such  baskets 
of  all  sizes,  mingled  with  a  few  bundles  simply  tied  up. 
When  our  belongings  are  rescued  and  identified  they  are 
stowed  away  in  a  rickshaw  by  themselves,  while  we  three 
mount  in  three  others  and  set  off  for  far  the  most  interest- 
ing part  of  the  journey.     At  first  the  road  is  quite  good, 


IN  A  JAPANESE  INN 


335 


PORTERS,  JAPAN. 


and  the  men  trot  away  contentedly,  the  big  hats  bobbing 
up  and  down  before  us.  What  do  these  hats  remind  you 
of  ?  To  me  they  are  exactly  like  the  lids  of  those 
galvanised  dustbins  you  see  put  out  in  streets  for  the 
dustmen  at  home. 

The  air  is  brilliantly  fresh  and  sweet ;  we  pass  along  by 
pine  trees  of  many  sorts,  and  between  them  see  the  fresh 
green  of  the  feathery  bamboos  ;  these  two  colours,  the 
dark  blue-green  of  the  pines  and  the  brilliant  yellow-green 
of  the  bamboo,  are  seen  everywhere  in  Japan.  Then  there 
are  avenues  of  red-stemmed  trees  called  cryptomeria, 
we  should  say  cedars,  with  dark  heads  spreading  out  at 
the  top  of  their  immense  branchless  stems.  We  see 
squirrels    leaping   about    and    scuttcriiig    up   the   trunks. 


336      ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

Then  we  go  across  open  spaces,  which  are  like  an  emerald 
sea,  for  they  are  the  brightest  green  you  can  imagine,  the 
green  of  the  growing  paddy,  which  is  cultivated  here  as  in 
Burma.  There  are  men  dressed  in  garments  of  glorious 
blue,  like  those  we  saw  in  Egypt,  hoeing  and  watching 
the  important  crops.  Then  we  plunge  into  cool  woods 
and  follow  little  paths  up  and  down,  and  when  we  want 
to  get  out  and  walk,  feeling  lazy  brutes  to  sit  still  and  let 
a  fellow-creature  haul  us  uphill,  Yosoji  says  no,  it  would 
hurt  the  feelings  of  our  men,  who  would  imagine  we 
thought  them  poor  weak  things  and  scorned  them. 

We  twist  down  to  a  wooden  bridge,  dark  maroon  in 
colour,  and  built  in  one  single  span  across  a  raging,  leaping 
stream  that  dashes  and  splashes  merrily  far  below.  At 
the  other  end  is  one  of  the  picturesque  roofed  arches  or 
gates  that  the  Japanese  are  so  fond  of,  with  its  rich  red 
tiles  curved  up  at  the  corners.  Not  far  on  we  catch  a 
glimpse  of  a  waving  sheet  of  blue,  a  mass  of  flowers  grow- 
ing wild  on  a  hillside,  and  in  sight  of  it,  but  still  in  the  shade 
of  the  trees,  we  sit  down  for  lunch  and  to  give  the  coolies 
a  rest. 

Several  times  during  the  run  we  have  noticed  shrines 
with  images  of  little  foxes  before  them,  some  clean  and 
new,  but  some  weather-worn  and  grown  over  with  lichen. 
As  Yosoji  unpacks  the  lunch  he  tells  us  these  are  Shinto 
shrines  put  up  in  honour  of  the  god  of  rice.  It  seems  very 
appropriate  to  hear  this  now,  just  as  we  are  going  to  fare 
merrily  on  hard-boiled  eggs,  a  tiny  chicken,  and  plenty 
of  rice,  finishing  up  with  those  astonishing  bright-coloured 
cakes,  which  we  have  learnt  to  eat  without  fear.  We 
rest  a  long  time,  and  all  except  you  smoke  contentedly, 
watching  the  blue  films  curl  upward  under  the  still  foliage  ; 
and  then  up  and  on  once  more. 

It  is  nearly  five  o'clock  before  we  reach  our  destina- 
tion, a  little  village,  with  a  rather  famous  inn,  not  very  far 


OUK    DINNER    IN    A    JAPANESE    INN. 


IN  A  JAPANESE  INN  337 

from  the  sea.  In  fact,  as  we  approach  we  can  see  the  blue 
water  shining  out  only  about  a  mile  away  across  a  fiat 
expanse  broken  by  hummocky  sandhills.  The  village 
is  one  long  straggling  street  of  thatched  huts,  rather  like 
huge  beehives,  with  broad  eaves.  Our  rickshaw  men, 
who  have  been  showing  signs  of  exhaustion,  make  a  gallant 
effort  at  the  last,  and  run  us  up  to  the  door  of  the  inn  in  fine 
style.  The  inn  stands  on  legs  raised  a  foot  or  two  from  the 
ground,  and  is  well  built,  with  solid  wooden  posts  and  a 
tiled  roof.  It  is  two  storeys  high  and  has  verandahs 
round  both  floors. 

As  our  men  let  down  the  shafts  of  the  chairs  for  us  to 
alight,  two  women  and  a  man  in  native  dress  come  out 
on  to  the  verandah,  and  immediately  fall  down  on  their 
faces  before  us,  with  their  foreheads  on  the  ground.  I  don't 
know  how  you  feel  about  it,  but  not  having  been  born  in 
the  purple  this  sort  of  thing  is  embarrassing  to  me,  and 
I  wish  they  wouldn't  !  I  have  a  vague  idea  that  I  ought 
to  rise  to  the  occasion  by  taking  their  hands  and  saying, 
"  Rise,  friend,  I  also  am  mortal,"  or  something  like  that  ! 

Yosoji,  of  course,  does  all  the  talking,  and  with  a  great 
deal  of  bowing  and  volumes  of  flowing  language,  arranges 
for  us  to  stay  here  the  night,  requesting  us  to  pass  on  into 
the  house.  In  the  porch  it  is  evidently  expected  that  we 
should  take  off  our  boots,  so  we  do,  and  they  are  stowed 
away  in  a  little  pigeon-hole,  while  we  are  offered  instead 
large  and  awkward  pairs  of  slippers  hke  those  we  had  at 
the  mosques.  You  reject  them,  preferring  stocking  feet, 
and  you  have  the  best  of  me,  for  the  next  move  is  to  go 
up  a  very  slippery  ascent  like  a  ladder  that  is  trying  to 
grow  into  a  staircase.  While  you  hop  along  gaily  I 
leave  one  slipper  behind  on  the  last  rung,  and  in  trying  to 
recover  it  slip  and  bark  my  shin  !  However,  when  it  is 
retrieved,  I  take  off  tlie  other  and,  carrying  them  botli  in 
my  hand,  mount  quite  easily. 


22 


338   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 


FUJIYAMA. 


The  room  we  go  into  is  specklessly  clean,  and  through 
the  wide  sliding  panels,  which  are  open  on  to  the  verandah, 
we  see  a  glimpse  of  the  blue  sea.  The  floor  is  made  of 
mattresses  in  wooden  frames  neatly  fitted  together,  and 
is  quite  soft  and  comfortable  to  the  feet ;  boots  with 
heels  would  certainly  be  out  of  place  here.  In  a  little 
alcove  on  one  side  is  a  miniature  tree  such  as  those  you 
sometimes  see  offered  for  sale  in  England  now,  and  behind 
it  a  quite  beautiful  sketch  of  Fujiyama  on  a  scroll.  There 
is  no  other  furniture  at  all,  but  when  our  luggage  is  brought 
up  we  can  sit  on  the  baskets.  We  explain  to  Yosoji 
that  we  would  greatly  like — first,  a  hot  bath,  after  the 
heat  and  dust  of  the  journey,  and  next  some  food. 
Presently  in  comes  the  little  Japanese  maid  whom  we  saw 


IN  A  JAPANESE  INN 


339 


on  her  face  at  the  door  in  company  with  her  master  and 
mistress.  She  prostrates  herself  at  once,  and  with  her 
forehead  against  the  floor  says  something,  indrawing  her 
breath  in  a  most  accomplished  hiss.  Do  you  think  we 
ought  to  do  it  back  again  ? 

Yosoji  interprets  that  with  great  good  luck  the  hot 
water  is  ready,  and  if  we  go  down  now  we  can  have  a 
bath.  Our  things 
have  been  brought 
up,  so  selecting  a 
few  clean  garments 
we  go  once  more 
along  the  polished 
passage  and  down 
that  dangerous  lad- 
der, then  through  a 
room,  presumably 
the  kitchen,  which 
is  quite  full  of 
people,  on  to  a 
covered-in  veran- 
dah on  one  side  of 
the  house,  where 
two  large  shining 
brass  basins  stand 
on  a  sink,  and  an  / 
iron  tub  stands 
on  the  floor,  with 
its  own  fire  beneath  it  hke  a  copper;  clouds  of  steam 
arise  from  it.  But  what  catches  our  attention  most 
quickly  is  an  amiable  Japanese  man,  who,  clad  in  a 
very  slight  garment,  has  evidently  just  had  a  bath.  We 
can  see  he  has  been  pouring  the  contents  of  the  basins 
over  himself,  and  letting  tlie  water  run  away  between  the 
wooden  slats  of  tlie  floor,  so  we  wait  for  them  to  be  re- 


IN   COMES   THE   LITTLE   MAID. 


340      ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

filled  for  us.  All  the  people  who  were  in  the  kitehen  have 
by  this  time  drifted  in  here,  and  stand  in  interested  con- 
templation of  onr  proceedings.  "  Which  is  the  bath  ?  " 
I  ask  Yosoji.  He  motions  toward  the  tub  of  boiling 
water.  "  But  that's  too  hot ;  we  shall  be  boiled  sitting 
on  the  top  of  a  fire,"  I  explain.  Tliereupon  a  great 
commotion  ensues,  embers  are  raked  out,  and  there  is 
much  running  about  and  chattering.  The  Japs  themselves 
take  their  baths  at  a  temperature  which  would  peel  the 
skin  off  our  bodies.  As  the  water  is  still  too  hot,  even 
when  the  fire  has  been  removed,  we  wait  for  it  to  cool, 
and  meantime  I  ask  where  is  the  other  bath,  as  there 
are  two  of  us  ?  This  produces  great  consternation  in 
Yosoji ;  who  ever  heard  of  each  person  having  a  bath 
to  himself  ?  The  notion  is  absurd.  He  knows  the 
ridiculous  prejudice  of  the  English,  who  do  not  like  to  use 
the  same  water  as  the  Japanese,  but,  as  it  happens,  this 
water  is  perfectly  clean,  for  even  the  gentleman  who  has 
just  gone  out  did  not  use  it.  Is  it  possible  we  can't  use 
it,  one  after  the  other  ?  I  ask  him  what  state  the  water 
gets  into  when  half  a  dozen  people  have  been  boiled  in  it, 
one  after  another,  and  he  tells  me  that  it  is  in  no  state  at 
all,  for,  of  course,  etiquette  does  not  allow  them  to  use 
soap  actually  in  the  bath  !  Well,  we  must  manage 
somehow  ;  when  they  clear  out  we  can  tip  some  of  the 
hot  water  into  that  second  basin  and  use  it  afterwards. 
Meantime  they  all  stand,  gaily  expectant,  smiling  affably. 
I  explain  to  Yosoji  that  we  can't  undress  before  the 
crowd,  and  he  seems  to  think  my  ideas  most  extraordinary. 
In  Japan  people  always  bathe  in  a  garment  and  have  not 
the  least  objection  to  doing  it  in  full  view  of  the  street. 

With  considerable  difficulty  our  absurd  scruples  are 
made  clear  to  the  assembled  company,  who  reluctantly 
depart,  defrauded  of  their  fun,  and  draw^  close  the  sliding 
screen. 


IN  A  JAPANESE  INN  341 

Then — yah — it  is  hot  !  We  manage  to  tip  out  two 
good  basins  full  and  fill  up  with  cold  water  fronri  a  tin  pail 
whiefi  stands  near.  Well,  we  botfi  find  it  very  refreshing. 
You  go  first,  and  while  I  am  revelling  in  the  hot  water  I 
hear  a  dismayed  exelamation,  "  Oh,  the  towels  !  "  and 
see  you  holding  up  a  tiny  thing  no  bigger  than  a  table- 
napkin,  embroidered  in  a  wandering  blue  pattern.  'J'here 
are  two  for  each,  and  thougli  tfiey  are  little  more  than 
poeket-handkerehiefs  we  must  make  them  do. 

When  we  get  back  to  our  rooms  in  a  more  or  less 
steamy  condition,  we  find  that  the  screens,  which  are 
made  of  paper  framed  in  wood,  have  been  drawn,  and 
outside  them  wooden  shutters  have  been  fastened.  The 
room  is  very  close,  and  tiiere  isn't  an  inch  open  for  ventila- 
tion. After  a  long  expostulation  with  Yosoji  we  are 
allowed  to  have  the  outer  shutters  open  an  inch  or  two, 
though  he  explains  they  must  be  shut  and  bolted  before 
we  go  to  bed  at  nigijt  or  the  police  will  be  down  upon  us. 
Tiiere  are  two  loose,  flowing  Jap  gowns  lying  ready  for 
our  use,  and  very  delightful  they  are.  As  they  are  quite 
clean  we  slip  into  them  instead  of  coats  and  laugh  across  at 
each  other.  In  comes  the  little  maid,  once  more  prostrat- 
ing herself,  then  she  goes  out  and  returns  with  a  lacquered 
tray  on  tiny  legs  a  few  inches  high.  This  she  sets  on  the 
floor,  and  after  a  considerable  interval,  during  which  she 
has  brought  up  many  tiny  dislies  and  bowls,  she  suddenly 
seats  herself  on  one  side  of  the  tray  and  motions  to  us 
to  begin. 

We  wriggle  across  the  floor  inelegantly  and  squat 
opposite  to  her.  The  first  thing  we  see  are  two  steaming 
bowls  of  soup;  we  make  short  work  of  these,  drinking 
from  the  bowl,  and  find  at  the  bottom  some  tough-looking 
bits  of  sometliing.  Then  we  discover  all  at  once  there  are 
no  knives,  forks,  or  spoons,  only  chopsticks,  like  f f  iks 
with  one  prong.     We  try  to  fish  out  the  bits  of  something, 


342   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

but  even  when  we  have  caught  them  the  result  is  not 
satisfactory ;  it  is  Hke  eating  leather.  Next  comes 
bowls  of  rice,  and  if  it  was  difficult  before,  it  is  doubly 
so  now.  I  should  certainly  never  be  able  to  pick  up 
grains  of  rice  with  a  chopstick  while  that  solemn  little 
maid  sits  opposite ;  it  would  take  a  Cinquevalli  to  do  it ! 
I  make  a  desperate  attempt  and  explode  suddenly,  the 
maid  giggles,  you  roar,  and  even  Yosoji,  who  is  somewhere 
in  the  background,  begins  tittering.  After  this  the  ice 
is  broken ;  we  entreat  Yosoji  to  get  the  maid  away 
without  hurting  her  feelings,  and  when  she  has  departed 
we  finish  the  rice  with  our  fingers.  There  are  various 
other  things — beans  which  can  be  skewered  on  the  chop- 
sticks, and  funny  little  bits  of  stuff  like  mixed  pickles, 
but  even  when  we  have  eaten  everything  we  are  as  hungry 
as  when  we  began.  Just  as  we  are  realising  it  our  little 
friend  appears  again  with  a  decent-sized  fish  on  a  dish, 
decorated  with  onions,  and  we  quickly  fall  to,  using  a 
funny  kind  of  bean-paste  made  up  like  a  cake,  instead 
of  bread.  By  the  time  we  have  finished  we  are  rather 
fishy  but  very  much  more  satisfied. 

The  meal  taken  away,  our  handmaiden  slides  back  a 
panel  in  the  more  substantial  side  of  the  room,  which  is  of 
wood,  and  produces  various  stuffed  rugs  which  she  spreads 
on  the  ground — these  are  called  futon,  and  are  very  like 
our  useful  friend  the  rezai  ;  we  have  some  of  our  own 
to  add  to  them,  and  altogether  the  beds  look  so  comfort- 
able that  we  are  quite  ready  to  get  into  them  at  an  early 
hour.  Having  lit  a  Chinese  lantern  at  one  end  of  the 
room  before  the  little  picture  recess,  a  sacred  place  in 
every  Japanese  household,  the  maid  retires  for  the  night, 
and  so  does  Yosoji.  Only  then  do  we  discover  that  for 
pillows  they  have  given  us  tiny  wooden  stools,  not  unlike 
the  national  clogs,  only  slightly  larger  !  These  we  are 
supposed  to  place  in  the  crick  of  the  neck  ;   having  tried 


IN  A  JAPANESE  INN  343 

it  you  declare  that  if  you  slept  at  all  that  way  you  would 
certainly  dream  you  were  lying  on  the  block  to  be  be- 
headed, so  instead  you  choose  the  lid  of  one  of  the  baskets, 
which,  being  yielding,  makes  not  half  a  bad  pillow. 

Good-night  ! 

After  a  profound  sleep  I  am  awakened  by  a  flood  of 
light,  and  sit  up  with  a  start,  to  find  myself  in  bed  before 
an  admiring  crowd.  The  sliding  panels  opening  on  to 
the  verandah  have  been  pushed  back,  and  there  stand 
my  landlord  and  landlady,  and  the  little  maid-servant, 
and  several  other  persons,  bowing  and  prostrating  them- 
selves and  asking  innumerable  questions,  to  which,  as 
there  is  no  Yosoji,  I  can  give  no  answers.  Everyone  in 
Japan  asks  questions,  I  find  ;  it  is  supposed  to  show  a  polite 
interest  in  you.  I  feel  rather  awkward  sitting  up  there 
among  my  futon  and  making  a  series  of  little  jerks 
meant  to  be  bows,  and  I  am  glad  when  you  wake  up  too 
and  help  me  a  little.  You  are  not  so  shy,  it  seems,  for 
you  hop  out  of  your  rugs  and  dance  to  the  verandah, 
revelling  in  the  light  and  sunshine. 

An  hour  later  we  have  had  a  sluice  down  with  cold 
water  from  the  brass  basins,  eaten  a  most  unsatisfying 
and  unsubstantial  breakfast,  much  like  the  dinner  the 
night  before,  minus  the  fish,  and  are  out  to  visit  the  village 
schools,  at  the  suggestion  of  Yosoji,  before  going  on. 

They  are  worth  visiting  !  I  never  saw  anything  quite 
so  quaintly  pretty  as  these  rows  of  little  dolls  in  their 
brilliantly  gay  garments,  tied  up  with  their  big  sashes. 
They  are  sitting  on  the  floor  and  laboriously  making 
strokes  with  a  paint-brush.  Tliat  is  to  say,  they  arc 
learning  to  write.  The  Chinese  writing  is  not  an  alphabet 
like  ours,  but  each  complicated  symbol  stands  for  an 
idea,  and  there  are  thousands  and  tliousands  of  them.  It 
takes  a  child  seven  years  even  to  learn  fairly  wliat  will  be 
necessary  in  after  life. 


344      ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

These  little  mites  are  not  making  complete  signs, 
but  just  doing  one  stroke  again  and  again,  all  over  a  large 
sheet  of  paper,  and  when  they  have  learnt  that  they  will 
go  on  to  another,  until  one  complete  symbol  is  mastered. 
The  writing  is  done  by  brush-work  instead  of  with  a  pen, 
and  is  more  like  artistic  painting  than  stiff  writing. 
Suddenly  the  teacher  gives  a  signal,  and  the  tiny  tots 
rush  out  into  the  air,  and  dance  and  play  and  run  and 
twiddle  each  other  round  and  round  like  little  kittens ; 
they  are  so  gay  and  so  bright  it  is  quite  evident  that 
Japanese  children  are  not  ill-treated. 

It  is  with  great  reluctance  we  pick  up  our  luggage, 
pay  our  very  moderate  bill,  and  leave  this  dear  little 
village.  Whatever  else  fades  out  of  our  minds  as  time 
goes  on  I  am  sure  the  picture  of  those  gay  children  will 
never  be  forgotten. 


-^^"■^^ 


AN   INDIAN    RESERVATION 


CHAPTER    XXIX 


THOUSANDS    OF   SALMON 

We  dawdled  so  long  in  the  quaint  and  charming  country 
of  Japan  that  it  was  full  summer  when  we  left.  As  the 
inverted  fan  of  Fujiyama  faded  gradually  into  nothing- 
ness against  the  illimitable  spaces  of  the  sky,  we  said  again 
and  again  sayonara,  which  is  the  musical  Japanese  word 
meaning  good-bye,  for  we  felt  we  were  taking  leave  of  an 
old  friend.  Japan  is  on  the  other  side  of  the  world  from 
England  ;  shall  we  ever  get  there  again  ? 

Then  came  the  voyage  across  the  Pacific  and  the 
landing  at  Victoria,  the  chief  town  on  the  great  island  of 
Vancouver,  wliicli  lies  off  the  west  coast  of  Canada.  It  is 
always  a  little  confusing  to  people  wlio  liavc  not  visited 

345 


346   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

this  part,  because  there  are  two  Vancouvers  :  one  the  great 
island  which  blocks  the  western  coast  of  Canada,  and  the 
other  the  town  lying  on  the  eastern  side  of  the  narrow 
straits,  on  the  mainland. 

Well,  here  we  are  in  Victoria,  and  the  astonishing  home- 
liness of  it  gives  us  both  a  warm  feeling  of  delight.  It 
seems  as  if  we  really  had  got  almost  in  touch  with  our  own 
country  again.  As  we  wandered  through  the  town  to-day 
we  saw  in  the  outskirts  red-brick  creeper-covered  houses 
that  might  have  been  in  an  English  market  town.  In 
spite  of  all  its  trams  and  docks  and  general  go-aheadness 
Victoria  is  old  world.  We  visited  a  place  called  Esqui- 
mault,  by  tram-car,  and  saw  there  British  ships  of  war 
and  many  other  kinds  of  craft.  Now  we  are  back  in  the 
hotel,  and  in  our  cosy  bedroom  there  is  little  to  remind 
us  we  have  still  a  continent  and  ocean  between  us  and 
our  beloved  little  island. 

What  are  you  doing  ?  Putting  your  boots  out  to  be 
cleaned  ?  Well,  that  is  one  thing  you  won't  get  done  here, 
it  is  not  the  custom  ;  you  will  have  to  go  down  to  the  base- 
ment and  have  them  cleaned  on  your  feet,  and  tip  the  man 
who  does  them  then  and  there.  I'll  come  too,  because 
we  have  to  make  a  very  early  start  to-morrow.  I  wish  we 
hadn't,  for  some  things.  There  is  capital  shooting  and 
fishing  here,  though  a  great  deal  of  the  island,  which,  by 
the  way,  is  more  than  twice  the  size  of  Wales,  is  covered 
with  impenetrable  forests.  It  is  difficult  to  get  about  at 
all  in  the  interior,  but  we  could  have  gone  around  by  the 
coast  and  explored  the  inlets,  and  with  luck  we  might  have 
seen  something  of  the  moose  and  the  bear,  to  say  nothing 
of  wild  fowl  and  salmon  and  trout,  but  we  can't  manage  it 
this  time.  A  friend  of  mine,  who  is  in  charge  of  a  salmon- 
cannery  on  the  coast  of  British  Columbia,  is  going  to  put 
us  up  for  a  day  or  two,  and  he  has  arranged  that  we  shall 
cross  over  on  the  cannery  steamer,  the  Transfer,  which 


THOUSANDS  OF  SALMON 


)47 


leaves  so  early  that  we'll  have  to  be  up  at  half-past  four 
in  the  morning. 


Ugh,  I'm  sleepy  !  But  I  see  the  sun  is  already  up  and 
shining  in  a  cloudless  sky.  It  is  a  trifle  cold  when  we  get 
out  at  first  in  the  morning,  but 
as  we  walk  briskly  down  to  the 
steamer  we  feel  warmed  up.  The 
wharf  shows  a  busy  scene ;  there 
are  numbers  of  blue-clad  China- 
men rushing  backwards  and  for- 
wards loading  boxes  on  to  our 
little  steamer,  which  floats  by  the 
wharf,  and  what  a  comic  steamer 
she  is  !  She  is  like  nothing  so 
much  as  a  great  fan-tail  pigeon 
sitting  on  the  water  !  That  is 
because  her  immense  paddle-wheel 
is  tucked  away  at  the  back.  There 
is  a  very  good  reason  for  this  too  ! 
The  steamer  gives  an  agonised 
scream  from  her  siren,  the  China- 
men on  board  chatter  and  gestic- 
ulate frantically  to  tlieir  comrades 
left  bcliind,  there  is  a  terrific 
commotion,  and  for  the  moment  "one  piecy  eat  breakfast." 
no  one   could   help   believing  that 

something  has  gone  wrong;  but  no,  this  is  only  the  way 
the  Celestials  say  good-bye,  for  wlien  we  are  fairly  off  all 
the  noise  stops  and  a  great  calm  falls  on  board. 

The  view  from  the  deck  is  glorious;  in  tliis  ])rilliant 
light  we  can  see  the  mountains  rearing  up  bcliind  the 
town.  Wliilc  we  are  a(hniring  them  a  voice  says,  "  One  piecy 
eat  breakfast.  Master,"  and  turning  we  see  a  Cliinaman  in 


348      ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORUD 

spotless  white  bowing  before  us.  We  gladly  accept  and 
go  below,  where  we  find  other  Chinamen  gliding  about  in 
felt  slippers  serving  hot  baked  buckwheat  cakes  and 
maple  syrup  ;  the  cakes  are  beautifully  flaky  and  about 
the  size  of  a  saucer  ;  we  soon  dispose  of  them  and  some 
decent  coffee  too,  and  return  to  the  deck  quickly  not  to 
miss  anything. 

It  seems  no  time  before  we  are  gliding  along  close  to 
the  land  on  the  other  side,  startling  myriads  of  water-fowl, 
who  fly  up  in  front  of  us  in  an  endless  cloud,  or  dive  just 
as  we  get  near  enough  to  see  them  well.  Then  a  tall  white 
lighthouse  heaves  into  sight  and  we  round  a  corner  into 
that  famous  salmon  river,  the  Eraser.  There  are  red 
houses  peeping  out  between  the  trees,  and  boats  begin  to 
pop  up  here  and  there,  but  we  don't  seem  to  be  getting  on 
very  fast,  for  we  are  zigzagging  this  way  and  that  across 
the  water,  almost  more  crookedly  than  we  did  on  the  Nile 
or  Irrawaddy  to  avoid  sandbanks. 

"  See  the  nets  ?  "  asks  one  of  the  ship's  officers,  coming 
to  a  halt  beside  us  and  pointing  to  a  line  of  corks  on  the 
surface  of  the  water ;  "  we've  got  to  keep  clear  of  them, 
and  that's  no  job  for  a  sleepy-head,  I  can  tell  you."  He 
goes  on  to  explain  that  the  nets  are  sixty  feet  long  and 
weighted  with  lead  on  the  low  side  in  the  usual  fashion. 
At  this  time  of  year  the  salmon  are  all  trying  to  get  up  the 
river.  Salmon  have  queer  ways.  They  are  born  far  up, 
in  the  head  waters  of  the  Eraser,  or  any  other  great  river, 
and  come  down  as  quite  little  fellows  to  the  sea,  where 
they  live  a  free  bachelor  life,  enjoying  themselves  in  the 
open  for  three  years ;  but  at  the  end  of  that  time  an  irresist- 
ible desire  to  return  to  the  fresh  water  seizes  them,  and  in 
thousands  and  thousands  tliey  press  up  the  wide  mouth 
of  the  river,  tumbling  over  each  other  in  their  eagerness  to 
get  there  ;  this  is  the  time  they  are  caught.  The  nets  are 
made  with  wide  meshes,  and  the  fish  in  their  struggle  to  get 


THOUSANDS  OF  SALMON  349 

forward  run  their  blunt  heads  through,  but  when  they  try 
to  withdraw  them  they  are  held  by  the  gills  and  remain 
fixed  until  they  are  hauled  out  to  meet  their  fate.  But 
from  six  in  the  morning  on  Saturdays  till  six  in  the 
evening  on  Sundays  the  law  forbids  netting,  so  a  certain 
number  always  escape  and  get  up  the  river  to  lay  their 
eggs,  after  which  they  return  to  the  sea  and  leave  their 
families  to  hatch  out ;  but  their  life-work  is  finished,  and 
they  either  die  on  the  way  or  soon  afterwards.  All  this 
the  officer  tells  us  as  we  meander  across  the  smooth 
water. 

We  stop  once  or  twice  where  the  flag  calls,  just  as  we 
did  on  the  Irrawaddy,  to  take  up  or  put  down  some 
freight,  and  then  we  sight  Lulu  Island,  where  we  are  to 
stay  as  the  guests  of  Mr.  Clay  for  a  day  or  two.  Hullo  I 
there  he  is  !  That  tall  fellow  in  a  flannel  shirt  and  blue 
trousers.  Oh  no,  it  isn't — it's  another  Englishman ;  but 
among  the  multitude  of  Chinese  one  Englishman  looks 
very  like  another  !  This  man  greets  us  as  we  get  off  at 
the  pier,  and  says  that  Mr.  Clay  is  expecting  us,  and  he 
pilots  us  into  a  great  shed  at  the  end  of  the  pier.  My 
word,  what  a  sight  !  There  are  thousands  and  thousands 
of  salmon  lying  on  every  square  foot  of  floor,  and  not  only 
covering  it,  but  covering  it  knee-deep,  as  they  are  piled  one 
on  the  other.  There  are  Chinamen  wading  about  among- 
them,  and  every  minute  fresh  boats  arrive  at  the  wharf 
with  their  cargoes,  and  the  men  in  them  throw  up  the  fish 
to  the  other  men  on  the  wharf.  The  salmon  we  see  liere, 
our  new  acquaintance  tells  us,  are  called  "  sock-eye,"  and 
weigh  about  ten  pounds  each.  The  great  rush  comes 
every  fourth  year,  one  of  which  was  1913,  wlien  about 
thirteen  million  fish  were  caught  in  the  season.  Tiie  men 
in  the  boats  are  Japs  ;  we  feel  quite  friendly  toward  them. 
Mixed  with  them  are  some  others  with  ratlier  Eastern 
faces  too,  but  quite  different  from  anything  we  liave  seen 


350   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

yet.  Notice  their  greasy  straight  hair,  their  flat,  broad, 
good-humoured  faces  and  little  stocky  figures;  what  race 
do  you  think  they  are  ?  Esquimaux  ?  That  is  not  a  bad 
shot ;  they  are  very  like  the  pictures  one  sees  of  Esquimaux, 
but  these  fellows  are  Siwash  Indians,  who  live  along  the 
coast  hereabouts.  Here  is  Mr.  Clay,  who  has  been  watch- 
ing the  reckoning  of  the  caught  fish.  He  is  dressed 
exactly  like  the  man  who  met  us,  and  a  useful  working 
dress  it  is  too.  He  greets  us  with  the  greatest  hospitality 
and  says  he'll  take  us  right  up  to  his  house  for  breakfast 
first,  as  we  must  be  starved,  and  we  can  see  all  we  want  to 
afterwards.  When  we  are  clear  of  the  sheds  we  see  a 
long,  low,  wooden  building  standing  by  itself ;  to  reach  it  we 
have  to  pass  over  several  wooden  platforms  raised  on  legs. 
These,  Mr.  Clay  explains,  are  necessary,  because  in  winter 
the  whole  island  is  pretty  well  under  water.  As  we  cross 
the  verandah  we  are  warmly  welcomed  by  Mrs.  Clay,  and 
taken  into  a  charming  wooden  room  in  the  middle  of  the 
house,  on  to  which  all  the  other  rooms  open.  Here  is  laid 
out  a  splendid  home  breakfast  of  bacon  and  eggs  and 
porridge,  and  after  a  wash  it  doesn't  take  us  very  long  to 
fall  to  !  How  long  is  it  since  we  had  bacon  and  eggs  for 
breakfast  ?  It  seems  to  me  to  be  so  far  back  I  can't 
remember  !  We  are  both  rather  thin  after  living  on  Jap 
diet  so  long,  and  are  quite  ready  to  wind  up  with  more 
buckwheat  cakes  when  we  have  finished  the  other  things. 
All  the  servants  are  Chinamen  you  notice,  and  very  well 
they  wait  too. 

While  we  eat,  Mr.  Clay  tells  us  much  about  his  kingdom. 
He  and  his  wife  have  another  house  which  is  in  New  West- 
minster, not  far  off  up  the  river,  and  they  go  there  for  the 
winter,  only  staying  here  in  the  summer  when  the  work  is  in 
full  swing.  He  is  the  manager  of  only  one  cannery  here, 
and  there  are  several  others  all  working  amicably  to- 
gether. 


THOUSANDS  OF  SALOMON 


351 


A   SIWASH    INDIAN. 


Then  we  stroll  out,  feeling  blissfully  satisfied,  a  com- 
dition  we  have  long  been  strangers  to,  and  as  we  smoke 
Mr.  Clay  points  out  the  other  houses  round.  There  is  the 
house  for  the  white  men  who  assist  him,  the  houses  for  the 
Japs,  and  the  Chinese  house.  At  the  back  of  his  own 
premises  are  sheds  where  he  keeps  a  couple  of  horses  and 
some  cows  for  his  own  use.  Then  there  is  the  Stores,  a 
big  building  full  of  tinned  meats,  sacks  of  rice,  tobacco 
and  tea,  and  all  sorts  of  underclothing,  as  well  as  the 
other  little  things  men  are  likely  to  want. 

Afterwards  we  stroll  through  the  Chinamen's  house. 
It  is  a  queer-looking  place,  with  bunks  ranged  along 
the  walls  and  a  huge  wooden  table  down  the  middle, 
where   just   now   numbers   of   complacent    Chinamen   are 


352   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

sitting  down  to  a  midday  meal  of  rice  with  cooked  fish. 
As  we  pass  along  we  see  that  each  man  keeps  his  little 
treasures  beside  his  bunk,  for,  though  so  impassive,  the 
Chinaman  is  a  home-loving  creature ;  there  are  little 
images  of  carved  ivory  and  other  small  treasures.  Do  you 
see  that  white  rat  with  pink  eyes  restlessly  doing  sentry-go 
in  his  cage  ? 

Behind  the  house,  and  some  distance  off,  is  the  Indian 
village,  where  we  see  great  barn-like  buildings  ;  here  the 
Siwash  Indians  live,  and  several  of  their  flat-faced,  broad- 
nosed  children  are  tumbling  about  and  playing  ;  as  we 
come  up  one  sturdy  youngster  raises  a  heavy  stick  and 
flings  it  with  all  his  force  at  a  wretched  little  seal  tied  up 
by  a  flapper.  Mr.  Clay  goes  quickly  forward  and  catches 
hold  of  the  little  Indian  boy,  and  the  women  all  rush  out 
and  talk  at  a  tremendous  rate  ;  it  ends  in  the  manager 
giving  a  trifle  for  the  seal  and  making  a  signal  to  his  men, 
who  take  up  the  poor  little  beast  and  carry  it  off  to  put 
an  end  to  it  mercifully.  He  does  not  put  it  back  in  the 
water,  because  seals  do  much  mischief  in  breaking  the 
nets.  The  Indian  children  don't  mean  to  be  cruel,  but 
they  have  no  imagination. 

Then  we  go  on  a  voyage  of  inspection  all  round  the 
place.  We  saw  the  fish  when  they  were  first  landed  from 
the  nets,  and  the  next  proceeding  is  when  they  are  slit 
open  by  the  Indian  women,  who  cut  off  their  heads  and 
tails  and  throw  them  into  vats  of  salt  and  water.  After 
this  they  are  fished  out  and  chopped  into  round  pieces  to 
fit  the  tins.  This  is  done  by  Chinamen,  who  get  so  clever 
at  it  that  they  can  judge  exactly  how  much  to  put  into 
each  tin  to  make  just  one  pound  weight  ;  the  tins  are 
weighed  as  they  pass  on,  and  all  those  not  right  are  sent 
back  to  be  done  again.  The  tins  which  pass  the  test 
roll  down  an  inclined  shute.  Look  at  them,  one  after  the 
other,  exactly  as  if  they  were  alive  !     As  they  run  they 


THOUSANDS  OF  SALMON  353 

roll  in  soldering  stuff,  so  that  their  lids  are  sealed  on  the 
way.  But  they  have  many  other  processes  to  go  through 
before  they  can  be  shipped  off.  Immense  care  is  taken  to 
get  all  the  air  out  of  the  tin,  because  if  any  were  left  in  the 
fish  would  go  bad.  They  are  tried  and  tested  time  after 
time  at  every  stage.  The  salmon  is  cooked  when  already 
in  the  tin,  and  the  heating  is  so  severe  that  all  the  bone 
becomes  soft  too.  You  know  this  well  in  tinned  salmon, 
don't  you  ?  You  know,  too,  the  look  of  the  tins,  with  their 
gaudy-coloured  labels,  as  they  are  sold  in  shops  in  England  ? 
These  labels  are  stuck  on  after  they  leave  the  cannery, 
which  deals  with  the  insides,  not  the  outsides,  of  the  tins. 
There  is  a  sarcastic  saying  at  the  canneries,  "  Eat  what 
you  can  and  can  what  you  cannot,"  but  this  is  not  fair, 
for  the  very  greatest  trouble  is  taken  to  ensure  the  fish 
being  quite  good.  When  all  is  ready,  sailing  ships  come 
and  are  loaded  up  and  carry  off  the  season's  catch  to  all 
parts  of  the  world.  And  this  is  going  on  all  along  the 
coast  at  many  and  many  a  cannery,  day  after  day,  week 
after  week,  during  the  fishing  season. 

There  is  so  much  to  see  that  when  we  leave  the  last 
shed  the  day  is  almost  gone.  At  that  moment  two 
Chinamen  pass  us  carrying  a  pig  suspended  from  a  pole  by 
its  four  feet  tied  together.  The  poor  little  beast  is  going 
to  be  killed,  for  the  Chinese  are  very  fond  of  pork. 

When  we  sit  on  the  verandah  after  dinner,  trying 
vainly  to  keep  off  the  mosquitoes  by  smoking  strong 
tobacco,  we  are  joined  by  one  of  the  assistant  managers,  a 
man  named  Jones,  who  has  fiery  red  hair  and,  I  should 
judge,  a  peppery  temper.  He  is  very  angry  about  some- 
thing, and  several  times  Mr.  Clay  tries  to  argue  with  liiiii 
and  cahii  liini  down  ;  it  seems  that  he  has  had  a  row 
with  a  Cliinaman.  This  morning  he  spoke  sharply  to  the 
man,  who  went  stolidly  on  with  his  work  witliout  seeming 
to  notice  it,  but  later  on,  meeting  Mr.  Jones  outside,  the 
23 


354   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

Chinaman  drew  the  knife  which  they  all  carry  in  their 
belts,  and  muttered  something  threatening  to  his  superior. 
This  evening  Mr.  Jones  keeps  saying  again  and  again  in 
an  excited  way,  "  Leave  him  to  me,  I'll  settle  his  hash," 
and  Mr.  Clay  repeatedly  tells  him  that  he  can  report  the 
man,  who  can  be  fined,  but  that  it  would  be  rash  to  tackle 
anything  of  that  sort  single-handed,  as  the  Chinamen  all 
stand  together  and  are  like  an  enraged  swarm  of  hornets 
if  any  one  of  their  number  is  touched. 

However,  next  day  we  hear  nothing  more  and  spend  a 
lazy  morning  wandering  about  a  little  and  sitting  on  the 
verandah  until  Mr.  Clay  turns  up  about  midday  and  says, 
**  Come  and  see  all  the  men  leaving  work  for  dinner;  you 
missed  that  yesterday,  and  it  is  quite  a  sight." 

So  we  go  across  with  him  to  the  big  shed.  Just 
as  we  reach  it  we  hear  a  furious  noise  like  the  buzz  of 
hornets,  and  coming  quickly  round  a  corner  we  run 
into  an  angry  and  excited  crowd  of  Chinamen  rushing 
this  way  and  that,  and  stabbing  at  random  in  the  air 
with  their  knives. 

"  That  fool  !  "  ejaculates  Clay.  **  He's  done  some- 
thing !  "  and  before  we  realise  what  he  intends  to  do,  he 
is  right  in  among  the  mob  of  Chinamen,  knives  and  all, 
without  a  sign  of  fear.  You  and  I  are  too  much  interested 
to  go  away,  but  we  keep  well  on  the  outskirts  of  the  crowd. 
The  roar  redoubles  as  Clay  is  seen,  but  after  a  while  it 
dies  away  a  little,  and  then  a  small  party  emerge  from 
among  the  rest,  carrying  one  of  their  number,  unconscious, 
between  them,  and  as  they  pass  on  down  to  the  house 
where  they  live,  the  others  hurry  after  them,  still  chattering 
and  brandishing  their  knives. 

Clay  is  much  upset.  "  That  fool  !  "  he  says  again, 
and  there  is  a  deep  fold  of  anxiety  on  his  forehead. 
"  This  morning  he  took  down  with  him  to  the  sheds  a 
piece  of  lead-piping,  and  stood  by  the  door  there,  and  as 


THOUSANDS  OF  SALMON  355 

the  men  came  out  one  by  one,  he  marked  the  one  who 
threatened  him  yesterday  and  dropped  him  with  a  stun- 
ning blow  on  the  back  of  the  neck.  I  don't  think  he's 
killed  the  fellow.  Luckily  it  takes  a  lot  to  kill  a  China- 
man, but  we'll  have  no  end  of  a  shindy  over  this  ;  they'll 
lose  days  of  work,  and  the  worst  is,  Jones  has  disappeared 
— no  one  knows  where  he  is." 

All  the  afternoon  the  place  is  in  a  blaze  of  excitement, 
and,  as  Mr.  Clay  foresaw,  no  work  is  done.  Every  now 
and  then  we  can  see,  from  where  we  are  sitting  on  the 
verandah,  a  band  of  Chinamen  burst  out  of  their  house 
flourishing  knives  and  shouting  and  rushing  about  and 
then  quieting  down  and  slinking  back.  If  Jones  shows 
himself  now  his  life  won't  be  worth  an  instant's  purchase  ! 
I  try  to  get  out  of  Clay  what  he  means  to  do,  but  he  won't 
tell  me,  yet  I  am  sure,  from  something  he  let  fall,  that  he 
has  discovered  the  whereabouts  of  his  junior,  and  I  should 
not  be  surprised  if  the  man  was  in  this  house. 

When  we  turn  in  at  last  to  our  beds  nothing  more  has 
happened,  and  Jones  has  not  appeared.  I  have  been 
asleep  for  a  little  while  when  I  hear  a  subdued  whispering 
on  the  verandah  outside  my  window,  and  jumping  up  I 
put  my  head  out.  There  stands  Clay  in  his  pyjamas  with 
a  man  I  recognise  as  the  night-watchman,  a  European. 
Clay  sees  me  and  waves  his  hand,  and  as  the  watchman 
disappears  he  comes  over  to  me.  "  Strang  has  just  been 
up  to  tell  me  that  the  Chinamen  have  carried  the  poor 
beggar  out  of  the  house  and  laid  him  on  the  bank  of  the 
river,"  he  says  in  a  low  voice;  "that  means  to  say  they 
think  he's  dying,  and  they  wouldn't  have  him  in  tlicir 
lumse,  or  his  spirit  would  settle  down  there.  That's  a 
good  job  for  us,  or  by  the  morning  he'll  be  spirited  away  ! 
There's  the  little  tug  ready,  and  it  will  soon  run  him  up  to 
New  Westminster  liospital.  I'm  just  going  down  to  see 
the  poor  cliap  aboard." 


356      ROUND  THE  AVONDERFUL  WORLD 

"  What  about  Jones  ?  Aren't  you  going  to  send  him 
off  too  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  No  fear  !  He'll  have  to  swallow  his  gruel.  We  can't 
spare  him.  WTiere  would  I  get  another  man  from  at  this 
time  of  the  season  ?  Besides,  that  would  look  as  if  he 
were  afraid  of  them.  We've  lost  hours  of  precious  time 
with  his  foolery  already,"  he  adds  savagely,  and  I  can 
guess  the  headstrong  Jones  has  "  caught  it  "  from  his 
chief  ! 

Next  morning  still  no  Jones,  and  all  seems  as  usual; 
work  is  resumed,  the  Chinamen  ask  no  questions  as  to  their 
wounded  comrade,  and  peace  reigns.  About  eleven  o'clock 
Clay  comes  up  from  the  works  hurriedly  and  gives  a 
whistle,  and  from  one  of  the  bedroom  doors  emerges  Jones, 
looking  rather  like  a  schoolboy  who  has  been  in  disgrace 
and  means  to  carry  it  off  with  swagger. 

V\Tien  we  get  out  on  the  verandah  we  find  the  rest  of 
the  white  men  belonging  to  the  place  all  gathered  to- 
gether with  revolvers  in  their  hands,  and  with  one  consent 
they  move  off  toward  the  big  shed.  For  the  life  of  me  I 
can't  keep  out  of  it,  and  it  would  be  rather  hard  to  stop 
your  going.  I  wouldn't  miss  seeing  Jones  reintroduced 
to  his  friends  the  Chinamen  for  anything.  Come  on, 
but  let  us  keep  behind  where  we  shan't  be  noticed,  or 
Mr.  Clay  would  send  us  back  at  once. 

There  is  a  busy  hum  surging  out  of  the  factory  as  we 
approach,  and  the  noise  of  it  rings  out  on  the  still  air;  then, 
as  the  white  men  appear  in  a  little  knot  in  the  doorway, 
there  is  a  dead  pause,  a  silence  so  sudden  and  dramatic 
that  it  seems  as  if  one's  heart  must  stop  beating.  The 
half-dozen  white  men  stroll  up  the  gangway  carelessly, 
but  you  note  they  all  keep  together,  until  Jones,  who 
doubtless  has  got  his  orders,  separates  himself  from  the 
others  and  walks  briskly  ahead.  His  face  is  very  white 
as  he  bends  over  a  Chinaman  and  glances  at  his  work 


THOUSANDS  OF  SALMON  357 

in  as  natural  a  manner  as  he  can  command,  then  he 
looks  sharply  at  another  and  tells  him  to  go  ahead  and  not 
waste  time.  Hands  grow  busy,  the  noise  recommences, 
and  in  a  few  minutes  the  buzz  rises  again  to  concert  pitch. 
The  critical  moment  has  been  safely  passed.  We  follow 
the  others  into  the  building  and  walk  the  whole  length  of 
it  and  back,  and  by  the  time  we  get  to  the  doorway  again 
no  one  could  tell  that  anything  unusual  had  happened. 

However,  I  shouldn't  care  to  be  Mr.  Jones  on  Lulu 
Island,  and  if  I  were  he  I  should  apply  for  a  job  elsewhere 
at  the  end  of  the  season  ! 


CHAPTER    XXX 


THE    GREAT    DIVIDE 


We  are  now  in  the  train 
running  toward  the  great 
ridge  of  mountains  which 
rises  like  a  backbone 
through  the  country  from 
north  to  south,  cutting 
off  the  territory  of  British 
Columbia  from  Alberta, 
though  both  are  pro- 
vinces of  Canada.  The 
Rockies  !  What  ideas 
of  grizzly  bears  and 
Indians  and  scalps  and 
trails  the  name  brings 
up  before  me  !  I  don't 
suppose  you  have  any- 
thing like  the  same  feel- 
ing about  them,  because 
you  weren't  brought  up 
on  Fenimore  Cooper  and 
Ballantyne  and  all  those  other  writers  who  are  old- 
fashioned  nowadays.  Perhaps  you  have  never  even  read 
The  Wild  Man  of  the  West,  or  Nick  o'  the  Woods  ?  It 
makes  me  sorry  for  you  ! 

The  Clays  were  good  to  the  last ;  they  brought  us  up  on 
the  little  launch  by  river  to  New  Westminster,  and  then 

3SS 


THE  GREAT  DIVIDE  359 

we   went   by   electric   cable-car  to  the   mighty   town   of 
Vancouver  on  the  Pacific  Coast.     Wliat  a  town  !     Wide 
streets,  huge  buildings,  tram-cars,  and  much  bustle  and 
life.     But  what  struck  us   most  Avas  the   splendid    play- 
ground of   Stanley  Park  which  covers  all  the  ground  at 
the  end   of   the    peninsula   stretching   out   into   the   sea. 
This  is  not  an  Englishman's  idea  of   a  park  at  all,   for 
we    think    of    the   rather    stiff   green    expanses,    with    a 
few  trees  scattered  here  and  there,  that  we  are  used  to 
at  home.     Stanley  Park  is  just  a  bit  of  primeval  forest 
with  roads  running  through  it.     There  are  immense  trees 
rearing  their  crowns  on   stems  twelve  feet  in  diameter. 
There  are  thickets  and  wild   creatures   and    rich    under- 
growth.    The  inhabitants  of  Vancouver  are  lucky  indeed, 
and   they  have  another  park   on  the   other  side   of   the 
town  too.     Stanley   Park  overlooks  the   harbour,   where 
lie  ships  of  all  nations,  from  the  liners  of  China  and  Japan 
to  the  tiny  tugs  of  the  Cannery  Companies.     The  amount 
of  trade  coming  here  is  immense.     The  ships  carry  cargoes 
of    tea,    rice,    and    silk    and    oranges,    with    skins    from 
Siberia,    and   take   away   grain,   timber,   fish,    machinery, 
cattle,  and  manufactured  goods.     There  are  some  sailing 
ships,  you  still  see  them  in  this  part  of  the  world,  and 
these    are    loading    masses    of    timber    baulks    from  the 
great  pine  woods  inland.     Lumbering  and  logging  are  the 
two  great   occupations  of  the  Western  Canadian  winter, 
and  what  you  see  here  is  the  fruit  of  that  work.     Terribly 
hard  work  it  is  too.     Swinging  an  axe  all  day  among  the 
great  giants  of  the  forest  requires  knack  as  well  as  strength, 
and  when  a  man  first  starts  that  game  he  quickly  finds 
he  is  as  weak  as  a  baby  till  his  muscles  get  hardened  to  it. 
When  cut  down  the  trunks  are  dragged  to  any  stream, 
or  creek,  as  they  call  them  here,  to  be  drifted  down  to  the 
coast.     It  is  a  wonderful  sight  to  see  a  river  about  half  a 
mile  wide  literally  covered  with  tree  trunks  wedged  against 


36o      ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

one  another  from  bank  to  bank.  When  the  logs  get 
jammed,  and  have  to  be  released,  it  requires  a  great  deal 
of  courage  to  go  right  into  the  middle  of  the  stream  and 
find  the  key-log,  the  one  which  holds  the  whole  together, 
like  the  keystone  of  an  arch ;  most  exciting  work  this  is, 
many  a  man  loses  his  life  or  his  limbs  over  it.  In  Burma, 
where  the  teak  companies  run  their  business  on  the  same 
lines,  elephants  are  taught  to  do  this ;  they  feel  around 
with  their  trunks  and  draw  out  the  right  log,  and  then  make 
for  the  banks  at  full  speed,  to  get  out  of  the  way  before 
the  whole  mass  of  tons'  weight  breaks  loose  and  comes 
down  upon  them.  But  here  there  are  no  elephants ;  dogs 
are  the  beasts  of  burden,  and  fine  work  they  do  in  teams, 
drawing  laden  sleighs  over  the  frozen  snow, — but  dogs 
can't  pull  out  timber  when  it  is  jammed.  A  lumber 
man  has  to  be  a  bit  of  an  engineer  too,  and  learn  how  to 
dam  up  the  stream  to  make  enough  water  to  float  his 
logs ;  he  is  a  jack  of  many  trades,  and  generally  a  fine 
fellow  too. 

If  we  had  come  straight  on  from  Victoria  in  the  Em- 
press steamer  from  Japan  we  should  have  landed  at 
Vancouver.  The  Empress  Line  belongs  to  the  Canadian 
Pacific  Railway  Company,  which  has  its  terminus  there. 
This  is  one  of  the  most  miraculous  railways  in  the  world. 
We  are  on  it  now.  When  first  it  ran  out  to  the  Western 
end,  after  surmounting  indescribable  difficulties  in  crossing 
the  mountain  country,  it  stopped  at  that  little  place  we 
passed  through  when  we  came  to  Vancouver  from  New 
Westminster.  You  remember  we  saw  a  deserted  town, 
solitary  and  silent,  on  the  inner  curve  of  the  bay  ?  It  is 
called  Port  Moody,  and  the  name  suits  it  to  a  T.  It  has 
a  right  to  be  moody,  for  when  it  was  known  the  railway 
was  going  to  end  here  the  town  sprang  up  in  a  week  or 
two,  in  the  way  Canadian  towns  do;  but  the  very  first 
winter  was  so  terribly  severe  that  ice  was  driven  up  into 


THE  GREAT  DIVIDE 


361 


the  bay  and  blocked  it  completely,  preventing  vessels 
from  getting  to  the  terminus  at  all,  and  so  the  directors 
saw  they  must  carry  their  line  on  farther  round  the  bay 
to  the  northern  point,  and  here  Vancouver  arose ;  but  the 
irony  of  it  was  that  no  such  winter  has  ever  been  known 
again  !  It  only  came  that  once,  just  to  blot  out  Port 
Moody's  chances.  So  the  place  lies  mouldering  away, 
with  the  lumber  houses  fall- 
ing to  pieces  and  the  wharves 
rotting,  and  only  a  few  wooden 
crosses  and  headstones  on  the 
hill  to  mark  the  graves  of 
those  who  stayed  behind  when 
the  others  went. 

This  is  a  very  fine  train, 
the  cars  are  open  all  the  way 
down,  so  we  can  walk  from 
end  to  end,  the  seats  face  in 
the  direction  we  are  going, 
and  the  backs  can  be  swung 
over  to  the  other  side  in  the 
same  way  as  on  a  tram-car. 
I  know  you  have  already 
noticed  the  very  spruce  negro 
attendants,  because  I  saw  you 
staring  at  the  first  one  wlio 
appeared  with  all  your  eyes ! 
There  is  an  observation  car 
with  huge  plate-glass  windows  at  the  end  of  the  train, 
and  we  will  go  there  to-morrow  when  we  get  into  the 
mountains.  I  saw  that  there  was  a  placard  saying  the 
negro  attendant  will  answer  all  questions  !  I  hope  he 
gets  a  very  high  salary  ! 

It  was  eight  o'clock  at  niglit  before  we  left  Vancouver, 
and  as  there  is  a  capital  dining-car  on  the  train,  we  had 


NEGRO   ATTENDANT. 


362   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

better  get  dinner  at  once.  But  the  fun  begins  when  we 
go  to  bed.  I  send  you  along  first  and  say  I'll  turn  in 
after  a  last  smoke,  but  I  have  hardly  settled  down  to  an 
interesting  conversation  with  a  man  in  the  smoking-car 
before  I  see  you  standing  beside  me  looking  very  troubled. 
Well,  what  is  it  ?     In  a  low  whisper  you  say — 

"  I  can't  go  to  bed  there ;  there's  a  lady  in  the  same 


car." 


"  Never  mind  !     She  has  her  own  bunk,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  Yes,  but — — "  a  long  pause — "  she  drops  her  hair- 
pins on  to  me  !  " 

My  laugh  makes  the  man  beside  us  very  inquisitive. 
Never  mind,  old  man  !  Pick  them  up  and  return  them 
to  her  in  a  neat  little  packet  to-morrow,  but  whatever 
you  do  don't  go  to  sleep  with  your  mouth  open  ! 

It  certainly  is  funny.  Wlien  I  join  you  I  find  that  the 
lady  is  in  the  upper  bunk  above  that  which  you  and  I 
are  going  to  occupy  together.  The  curtains  hang  straight 
down  and  it  is  a  very  tight  fit  indeed  to  wriggle  into  my 
place  without  pulling  open  the  top  part,  and  a  still  more 
difficult  job  to  get  out  of  my  clothes  lying  in  a  space 
like  a  ship's  berth. 

In  the  morning  I  take  care  to  get  up  early  and  rouse 
you,  and  as  we  vanish  out  of  the  compartment  we  hear 
a  little  giggle,  and  looking  back  I  see  a  long  lock  of 
brown  hair  hanging  down  over  the  edge  of  an  upper  bunk. 
I  hope  you  gave  her  back  her  hairpins  ! 

We  are  surprised  that  the  train  is  standing  still,  and 
want  to  find  out  why.  We  saunter  along  to  the  observa- 
tion car  and  breathe  the  glorious  freshness  of  the  air, 
chilled  by  the  great  white  peaks  which  rise  shining  up 
against  a  clear  sky.  Seeing  that  several  of  the  men 
passengers  have  climbed  down  on  to  the  track  and  are 
wandering  along  it  we  follow,  and  round  the  next  corner 
come  upon  a  cattle-train  off  the  lines  and  blocking  the 


THE  GREAT  DIVIDE  363 

way.  She  was  just  turning  on  to  a  siding  to  wait  for 
our  coming  when  the  disaster  occurred,  and  now  she 
lies  helpless,  with  twenty  cars  filled  with  cattle  who  are 
lowing  in  a  disconsolate  questioning  way.  Just  look  at 
the  poor  beasts,  they  are  packed  tighter  than  ever  we  see 
them  in  England,  simply  jammed  up  against  each  other 
like  sardines  in  a  tin.  One  of  them  has  fallen,  and  the 
others  bulging  out  over  the  space  thus  made  are  trampling 
on  him.  A  fine-looking  fellow,  six  feet  high,  in  a  blue 
shirt  and  cowboy  hat,  with  a  red  handkerchief  twisted 
round  his  throat,  comes  along  with  a  pole,  and  skewering 
it  under  the  fallen  ox  very  cleverly  levers  it  on  to  its  feet 
again,  holding  it  up  until  it  forces  its  way  upward  itself. 
He  jabs  at  it  once  or  twice  to  make  it  move,  but  not 
unkindly.  He  looks  a  rough  specimen  and  has  a  two 
days'  gro\^i:h  of  beard,  but  we  go  up  to  him,  as  I  want  to 
ask  questions  about  the  cattle.  To  our  astonishment 
the  moment  he  speaks  we  know  him  for  an  educated 
Englishman.  "  Oh,  they're  not  badly  looked  after,"  he 
says  ;  "  they've  all  been  out  at  Kamloops  for  twelve  hours 
to  get  rest  and  food  and  water.  They  were  only  put  on 
the  cars  an  hour  since." 

Looking  at  him  keenly  I  find  something  very  familiar 
in  his  face.     ''  Arc  you  a  Winchester  man  ?  "  I  ask. 

"  By  Jove  !  "  he  says,  ''  Mitton  !  "  and  simultaneously 
I  cry  ''  Wharton  !  "  and  our  hands  are  locked. 

"  Got  a  rough  job  ?  "  I  ask. 

He  laughs.  "  It's  all  in  the  day's  work,"  he  says. 
"  I've  done  worse  things.     It's  a  man's  job,  anyhow." 

"  Are  you  going  to  live  out  here  permanently  ?  " 

"No;  not  good  enough.  I've  been  knocking  about 
now  two  years,  and  unless  you've  got  capital  you  can't 
make  a  start ;  a  man  can  always  keep  himself,  of  course, 
and  you  see  something  of  life  too,  but  for  a  permanency, 
no,   it's  not  good  enougli  !     I   wrote  to  my  people  only 


364   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

last  week  I'd  be  turning  up  next  fall  to  settle  down 
again." 

He  has  to  go  to  help  the  men  who  are  raising  the 
wheels  of  the  truck  on  to  the  line  again  with  jacks.  It 
has  been  a  queer  accident  altogether.  The  train  was 
running  down  in  the  early  hours  of  this  morning  when  a 
huge  boulder,  which  had  been  loosened  by  the  vibration 
of  its  passing,  fell  with  terrific  force  against  this  particular 
car,  and  knocked  it  off  the  rails  ;  the  coupling-pin  con- 
necting it  with  the  next  one  in  front  broke,  and  the  engine 
and  first  few  trucks  ran  on  a  little.  Luckily  the  derailed 
truck  ploughed  the  ground  and  stopped  within  a  foot 
or  two  of  the  awful  gulf  yawning  below,  though  those 
following,  which  had  kept  on  the  track,  gave  it  a  shunt 
forward. 

It  is  not  long  before  all  is  shipshape  again,  and  we 
draw  slowly  past,  waving  to  Wharton,  who  stands  up  in 
his  caboose,  or  van,  a  handsome,  healthy  figure  of  a  man. 
He  was  one  of  the  best  short-slips  Winchester  ever  had. 
For  some  time  after  this  we  pass  waiting  trains  at  every 
siding,  for  all  the  traffic  has  been  held  up  by  the  accident. 

For  the  rest  of  that  day  it  is  difficult  to  spare  thoughts 
for  anything  but  the  scenery.  It  is  grander  than  any- 
thing I  have  ever  seen  in  my  life.  Very  few  people  in 
England  realise  that  there  is  not  one  but  three  ranges  of 
mountains  to  be  crossed  from  the  coast.  We  are  through 
the  first  now  and  into  the  Selkirks,  and  we  have  to  climb 
right  up  these  and  down  again  before  starting  on  the 
heights  of  the  Rockies,  which  is  the  only  range  most 
people  know  by  name.  The  peaks,  which  rise  majestically 
round,  are  often  tree-clad  far  up  ;  we  see  huge  pines, 
centuries  old,  towering  out  of  a  tangle  of  undergrowth 
that  has  probably  never  been  trodden  by  any  human  foot, 
not  even  those  of  the  Indians.  There  is  a  great  deal  of 
dead  wood  to  be  seen,  and  this  hangs  out  in  banners  of 


THE  GREAT  DIVIDE 


365 


INDIANS   IN   MODERN  CLOTHES. 


brown  among  the  sombre  green,  and  here  and  there  are 
long  strips  of  briUiant  emerald,  which  stand  out  like 
streaks.  We  apply  to  the  long-suffering  attendant,  who 
tells  us  that  they  are  the  new  growth  on  some  great  gash, 
cut  possibly  by  a  fall  or  landslide  in  the  winter,  and  as  we  go 
along  he  shows  us  some  of  these  bare  patches,  yet  unhealed, 
torn  by  an  avalanche  of  stones  and  mud  and  snow. 

We  pass  on  long  trestle  bridges  over  foaming  torrents 
far  below,  and  it  makes  us  shudder  to  think  what  would 
happen  if  the  train  went  over.  Tliat  man  in  the  smoking- 
car  last  night  told  me  a  story  of  what  happened  to  himself 
on  this  line,  some  twenty  years  ago,  when  he  was  crossing 
over  the  barrier.  The  train  he  was  in  was  trying  to  get 
up  a  tremendously  steep  incline  on  a  dark  and  stormy 


366      ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

night.     The  worst  of  these  inclines  are  not  used  now,  for 
the  way  has  been  engineered  round  them.     The  wheels 
were  slipping  on  the  greasy  rails,  and  the  engine  was  snorting 
and  sending  up  showers  of  sparks,  and  inch  by  inch,  foot 
by  foot,  the  driver  manoeuvred  her  up,  till  he  reached  one 
of  these  bridges.     There  is  a  man   stationed   on  duty   at 
each  of  them.     There,  notice  his   hut   as  we  pass — ^they 
have  to  guard  the  road  and  see  to  the  safety  of  it  and 
signal  to  the   train   if  anything  happens  to  the  bridge. 
The   driver  communicated   with  the   man   on  the  bridge 
he  had  reached,  and   asked    him   to   wire   for  an  engine 
to  meet  him  at  the  next  bridge  and  help  him  up.     Engines 
are  kept  in  certain  places  ready  for  an  emergency  like 
this  ;    so  the  wire  was  sent  and  the  train  struggled  on, 
but  when  they  got  to  the  next  bridge  there  was  no  engine. 
The  message  had  gone  through  all  right,  and  the  man  in 
charge  there  had  received  a  reply  that  the  relief  engine 
had  started,  and  it  ought  to  have  arrived  by  then,  but 
there  was  no  sign  of  it.     The  line  is  a  single  one  you  notice, 
all  the   way,   except   at   certain  places,  where  there   are 
loops  to  allow  trains  to  pass  each  other  in  the  same  way 
as  on  some  tram-lines.     After  waiting  some  time  the  engine- 
driver  steamed  slowly  ahead.     He  climbed    on   and   up, 
and  went  very  slowly,  expecting  at  every  turn  to  meet 
the  relief  engine,  or  find  it  waiting  for  him,  held  up  at  a 
bridge.     But  no,  there  was  no  sign  of  it,  and  yet  every 
bridge-keeper  gave  him  the  same  message — it  had  been 
sent   out  and   should   have  been  here  by  now.     At  last 
he  reached  the  depot  itself,   but  there  was  no  engine  ! 
What  had  happened  to  it  ?     It  had  been  dispatched  on 
the  single  line,  full  steam  up,  into  that  stormy  night,  and 
it  had    vanished   completely  !     A   search-party  was  sent 
out  in  the  morning,  and  found  at  one  of  the  loops  a  slight 
fracture  in  the  line  ;  close  to  it  the  ground  had  been  ploughed 
up,  and  there,  far  below,  lay  a  shattered  mass  of  iron  and 


THE  GREAT  DIVIDE  367 

steel  in  the  narrow  valley,  with  the  torrent  plunging  over 
it.  For  some  unexplained  reason  the  engine  had  left  the 
rails  and  pitched  straight  over  the  precipice,  carrying  with 
her  the  two  men  in  charge,  who  were,  of  course,  killed 
outright. 

Beside  the  bridges  there  are  tunnels  and  snow-sheds 
frequently  on  tliis  line.  Our  puny  tunnels  in  England 
are  nothing  to  these  ;  a  new  one  which  is  just  being  bored 
through  the  Selkirks  and  fitted  with  electric  light,  is  five 
miles  in  length  !  The  snow-sheds  are  very  peculiar ;  they 
are  built  out  over  the  line  with  sloping  roofs,  so  that  when 
the  avalanches  of  snow  and  stones  and  ice  come  flying  down 
as  the  grip  of  winter  relaxes,  they  are  carried  off  right 
over  any  train  that  may  happen  to  be  passing,  and  thunder 
on  into  the  valley  below.  For  the  line  is  for  the  most 
part  laid  on  a  mere  shelf  hewn  out  of  the  rock,  with 
a  precipice  on  the  one  side  and  the  towering  wall  of 
the  mountain  on  the  other.  We  are  not  likely  to  get 
avalanches  or  snow-slides  now,  but  in  the  spring  it  is 
an  extraordinary  experience  to  be  in  the  train  and  hear 
the  roar  and  rattle,  as  of  big  guns,  followed  by  a  hail  of 
bullets,  as  tons  of  stuff  come  down,  and  most  of  it  goes 
shooting  into  space,  though  a  good  deal  is  left  on  the  sheds. 

These  deep  narrow  valleys  through  which  the  rivers 
foam  are  called  cafions,  and  the  narrowest  point  we  pass 
through  is  called  Hell's  Gate.  Here  the  rigid  walls  of  the 
cliffs  come  so  near  together  that  you  could  easily  tlu'ow  a 
stone  across,  and  the  tossing,  foaming  water  careers  along 
hundreds  of  feet  below.  The  marvel  is  how  any  engineer 
could  have  made  a  line  here  at  all.  Tliink  of  the  blasting 
and  of  the  machinery  which  had  to  be  used ;  how  did  they 
ever  manage  it  ?  For  before  the  track  was  cut  there  was 
nothing  to  rest  on.  The  engineers  must  have  rigged 
up  some  sort  of  scaffolding,  I  suppose,  but  it  seems  in- 
credible.    They  had  no  choice  but  to  do  it,  for  there  was 


368      ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

no  other  way  to  get  the  line  through,  except  by  these 
narrow  valleys,  already  occupied  by  a  tempestuous  river. 
The  railway  never  would  have  been  made  at  all  but  for 
that  grand  old  man.  Lord  Strathcona,  who  died  so 
recently.  It  was  he  who  inspired  people  with  his  own 
enthusiasm  and  indomitable  perseverance,  and  he  at  last 
who  had  the  honour  of  driving  in  the  spike  which  joined 
up  the  two  ends  of  the  line,  that  coming  up  from  the 
Pacific  slope,  and  that  which  had  run  across  the  plains 
from  the  Atlantic,  and  thus  he  bridged  the  continent. 
One  of  the  finest  peaks  in  the  mountains  is  called  after 
him.  And  the  great  "  park  "  of  830  square  miles,  now 
being  formed  on  Vancouver  Island,  is  to  be  called 
Strathcona  Park. 

The  loops  which  the  line  makes  are  another  thing  to 
notice.  Far  up  we  can  see  another  train  crawling  about 
on  the  mountain  -  side,  which  seems  impossible  !  How 
did  it  get  there  ?  The  negro  attendant  sees  us  staring, 
and  grins,  showing  his  set  of  splendid  white  teeth,  "  Soon 
see  him  below,"  he  says,  and  he  is  right ;  in  a  comparatively 
short  time  we  have  passed  that  train  at  a  siding,  and  after- 
wards, on  looking  down,  see  it  deep  below  us  in  the  valley. 
The  line  makes  the  ascent  in  a  series  of  great  loops,  and 
the  sides  of  these,  seen  from  above  or  below,  appear  to  be 
straight  lines. 

Revelstoke  is  one  of  the  interesting  places  we  pass ; 
here  a  branch  goes  off  to  the  Kootenay  country,  where 
there  is  splendid  land  and  climate  for  fruit-growing  along- 
side the  great  lakes. 

You  ought  to  be  beginning  to  know  something  about 
Canada  now.  First  the  salmon-fishing,  then  the  lumber- 
ing, next  the  cattle-export,  and  now  the  fruit-growing.  It 
is  a  fine  and  prosperous  country. 

It  is  the  wrong  time  of  year  for  the  fruit,  or  we  might 
have   made  an  excursion  to  the  south  to  get  a  look  at 


THE  GREAT  DIVIDE  369 

it,  for  we  could  go  down  the  great  lakes,  through  the 
Crow's  Nest  Pass,  and  back  again  to  the  main  line 
in  a  loop.  But  the  blossom  will  all  be  over,  of  course ; 
in  spring  it  is  as  great  a  sight  as  it  is  in  Japan,  with 
the  flowers  springing  out  all  along  the  trunk  and  branches 
like  the  hackles  of  a  cock  !  Cherries  are  one  of  the  chief 
exports,  and  then  there  are  peaches,  pears,  apples,  and 
plums,  with  other  things  such  as  strawberries  and  potatoes 
to  fill  in.  But  many  a  man's  heart  must  sink  when 
he  comes  out  first  from  the  old  country  and  sees  the 
wilderness  he  has  to  start  on,  for  even  if  it  is  "  cleared  '* 
there  may  be  stumps  of  huge  trees  sticking  up  all  over, 
and  stones  everywhere;  it  is  all  much  rougher  than  our 
neat,  tidied-up  country.  But  then,  on  the  other  hand,  the 
land  is  far  cheaper,  the  soil  is  much  more  fruitful,  and 
consequently  the  yield  greater.  After  Revelstoke  we  pass 
Glacier,  where  the  line  runs  round  in  a  kind  of  amphi- 
theatre, showing  a  magnificent  range  of  peaks  in  solemn 
grandeur  rising  above  the  fringe  of  fir  trees. 

We  have  come  down  from  the  Selkirk  range  and  now 
rise  to  the  Rockies,  where  the  track  is  even  steeper  and 
more  twisted ;  here  the  snowy  peaks  lifted  into  the 
region  of  eternal  snow  are  higher,  but  the  scenery  is  not 
so  easily  seen,  as  we  are  more  hemmed  in  by  even  narrower 
canons.  The  main  interest  is  in  going  through  Kicking 
Horse  Pass ;  but  here  even  the  negro  attendant  fails — he 
cannot  tell  us  how  the  name  arose  !  His  spirits  droop, 
but  rise  again  when  he  comes  eagerly  to  tell  us  we  are 
approaching  the  "  Great  Divide."  We  have  been  running 
through  many  tunnels  in  and  out  of  the  "  Cathedral 
Rocks,"  and  now  we  reach  the  water-shed  of  the  country, 
where  sparkling  streams  fall  away  in  opposite  directions, 
one  running  down  to  the  Pacific,  and  the  other  to  Hudson's 
Bay  in  tlie  north-west.  At  last  we  reach  Banff,  a  well- 
known  place,  with  a  huge  hotel  of  the  most  luxurious 
24 


370   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

kind,  belonging  to  the  Canadian  Pacific  Company.  Near 
Banff  is  the  Canadian  National  Park,  a  park  indeed,  of 
5732  square  miles,  including  mountains  and  forests ! 
You  simply  can't  imagine  it ;  it  is  a  great  tract  of  country, 
preserved  in  its  natural  state,  and  the  haunt  of  wild  things. 
Here  are  herds  of  the  buffalo  of  the  West,  the  bison, 
a  very  different  fellow  from  the  domesticated  Eastern 
buffalo  who  so  rudely  chased  you  and  Joyce.  The  bison 
are  fine  to  look  at,  with  their  extraordinarily  large  chests 
and  heads,  out  of  all  proportion  to  the  rest  of  their  bodies. 
Their  great  shaggy  fronts  and  humped  shoulders  make 
a  peculiar  outline.  In  years  past  they  were  cruelly 
hunted  and  killed,  but  are  now  protected  and  encouraged. 
Now  the  Government  is  doing  its  best  to  save  the 
remnant. 

The  amount  of  land  yet  wholly  untrodden  in  the  heart 
of  these  great  mountains  is  difficult  to  realise  ;  even  the 
Indians  only  pass  through  some  of  it,  and  no  white  man's 
foot  has  ever  touched  more  than  a  tithe.  Grizzly  bears, 
cinnamon  bears,  deer,  wild  sheep,  and  goats  live  still  in 
these  fastnesses,  quite  undisturbed  by  the  little  line  that 
threads  through  from  sea  to  sea. 


CHAPTER    XXXI 


ON   A    CATTLE   RANCH 


Do  you  remember  your  first  sight  of  the  sea  ?  I've  not 
forgotten  mine,  thougli  it  must  have  been  many  years 
before  yours.  I  suppose  I  wasn't  more  than  four,  and 
kindly  patronising  elder  brothers  and  sisters  had  tried  to 
describe  it  to  me  beforehand,  but  the  most  I  pictured  was 
a  very,  very  big  pond,  with  water  as  flat  and  uninteresting 
as  that  of  most  ponds.  No  one  can  have  any  real  notion 
of  the  sea  before  seeing  it ;  and  it  is  the  same  with  the 
prairie.  I  have  often  imagined  it,  but  now  that  we  are 
actually  on  it,  driving  over  it,  I  find  that  all  my  mind- 
pictures  are  lifeless  compared  with  the  reality.  It  gives 
one  a  feeling  of  freedom,  as  if  one  had  been  living  always 
in  rooms  and  suddenly  got  out.  It  is  not  flat  like  a  table, 
but  full  of  gentle  curves  and  sweeps,  as  if  it  were  always 
just  going  to  reveal  something  unknown,  and  yet  it  reaches 
on  for  ever  on  all  sides.  It  makes  us  feci  quite  insignificant 
as  our  conveyance  crawls  along  the  centre  of  a  gigantic 


371 


372   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

circle  which  appears  to  move  with  us.  But  the  thing 
which  is  most  surprising  is  the  beauty  of  it.  The  grass  is 
growing  freely  and  is  very  fresh,  and  mingled  with  it,  like 
poppies  and  cornflowers  in  a  wheatfield,  are  innumerable 
flowers,  red  and  blue  and  yellow,  shining  like  jewels  in  the 
brilliant  sunlight — some  are  like  sunflowers,  and  others, 
growing  singly,  are  tall  red  lilies.     There  are  clumps  of 

trees,  too,  here  and  there, 
little  round  islands  of  them, 
bluffs,  they  are  called.  We 
have  left  the  mountains  now 
and  descended  into  the  great 
plains  once  only  inhabited  by 
wild  tribes  of  the  Redskins 
and  mighty  herds  of  buffalo, 
but  now  for  the  most  part 
taken  up  by  white  men  for 
grazing  -ground . 

When  our  engine  ran  into 
Calgary  station,  with  a  great 
clanging  of  the  big  bell,  we 
found  a  sunburnt  lean  young 
man  of  twenty  or  so,  in 
the  shady  hat,  blue  shirt, 
breeches,  and  leggings  we 
have  become  accustomed  to 
now.  He  greeted  us  very 
shortly:  "For Mr. Humphrey's 
ranch  ?  "  and  when  we  said  "Yes,"  led  the  way  outside  to 
where  an  odd  kind  of  waggonette,  drawn  by  two  horses, 
was  waiting.  We  gather  it  is  called  a  "  democrat,"  for 
we  heard  the  stationmaster  say,  "  Put  'em  in  the  demo- 
crat "  as  sundry  square  wooden  boxes  were  gathered  up 
from  a  storehouse.  Our  luggage  was  a  mere  trifle  com- 
pared with  the  miscellaneous  mass  of  sacks  and  boxes  and 


A   LEAN  SUNBURNT   MAN. 


ON  A  CATTLE  RANCH 


373 


LONE   PINE   RANCH. 


bundles  that  were  piled  in  behind.  We  were  six  hours 
late,  as  we  were  due  at  two  this  morning  and  it  is  now 
eight.  I  remark  on  it  to  our  silent  young  driver  when 
he  gathers  up  the  reins.  He  laughs  shortly.  "You 
never  can  tell,  sometimes  it's  as  much  as  a  day " 

The  trail  out  on  to  the  boundless  prairie,  after  getting 
clear  of  the  town,  is  merely  marked  by  two  deep  ruts. 
When  we  meet  another  "  rig,"  as  conveyances  of  any  sort 
are  called  here,  the  driver  usually  goes  off  on  to  the  grass 
to  make  way  for  us,  as  we  liave  a  heavy  load,  a  courtesy 
our  young  driver  acknowledges  by  raising  his  whip. 

It  is  very,  very  hot,  and  as  we  jog  along  in  silence  it  is 
difficult  not  to  fall  asleep.  It  seems  a  long,  long  time  before 
the  driver  points  with  his  wliip  to  a  distant  herd  of  cattle. 


374   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

"  They  belong  to  the  Lone  Pine  Ranch,"  he  volunteers. 
That's  the  ranch  we  are  going  to  stay  at.  Then  a  group  of 
log  buildings,  with  a  few  trees  near,  rises  out  of  the  plain, 
and  we  draw  nearer  and  nearer  steadily  and  realise  this 
is  our  destination. 

The  principal  house  is  built  entirely  of  logs  and  has  a 
sort  of  verandah  around.  Mr.  Humphrey  himself  is  waiting 
outside,  and  at  a  shout  from  him  a  fair-haired,  rosy-cheeked 
woman  in  a  pretty  pink  cotton  dress  and  sunbonnet  joins 
him,  followed  by  a  tiny  toddling  child. 

Their  welcome  is  as  warm  as  all  the  others  we  have 
received  in  Canada.  To  our  surprise  the  young  driver 
turns  out  to  be  the  Humphreys'  son  ! 

His  father  and  mother  laugh  heartily  as  he  disappears 
round  the  corner  of  the  house  to  unyoke  the  horses. 

"  Edmund  is  the  best  man  at  holding  his  tongue  I  ever 
came  across,"  says  Mr.  Humphrey ;  "  seems  to  have  been 
born  that  way  ;  he  doesn't  get  it  from  either  of  us  !  " 

Mrs.  Humphrey  is  doing  all  the  work  of  the  house 
herself,  for  her  husband,  five  children,  and  three  hired  men, 
with  the  help  of  an  Indian  woman  for  the  rough  scrubbing. 

"  You  can't  get  servants  here,"  she  says ;  "  and  if  you 
brought  them  out  from  England  they'd  get  married  in  the 
first  week." 

Edmund  reappears  for  dinner,  followed  by  three  other 
young  men  dressed  precisely  alike.  They  sit  down  in  a 
lump  at  one  end  of  the  wooden  table  and  solidly  consume 
immense  helpings  of  boiled  beef  and  dumpling,  which  Mrs. 
Humphrey  carries  in,  disdaining  any  help.  When  we  have 
finished  she  smilingly  produces  half  a  dozen  jam  tartlets 
from  a  cupboard. 

I  made  them  for  you,"  she  says,  looking  at  you. 
I'm  proud  of  my  pastry,  but  I  had  to  hide  them,  for 
Edmund  and  his  father  have  an  awful  sweet  tooth,  and  if 
I'd  put  them  out  there  wouldn't  have  been  one  left.' 


J) 


ON  A  CATTLE  RANCH  375 

There  are  gurgles  and  nudges  from  the  lower  end  of  the 
table,  and  I  see  you  grow  scarlet  as  the  plate  of  tartlets  is 
solemnly  put  in  front  of  you.  I'll  help  you  out.  I  have  a 
**  sweet  tooth  "  too,  and  the  toddler  will  do  his  best,  as  he 
has  one  bestowed  on  him  by  his  mother. 

There  is  a  crash  in  the  little  scullery  opening  off  the 
room  we  are  in,  and  as  the  mistress  of  the  house  jumps  up 
with  an  exclamation  the  round  moon-face  of  an  Indian 
woman  appears  for  a  moment  in  the  doorway. 

It  seems  she  has  upset  the  coffee  which  she  was  going 
to  bring  in.  Some  of  it  is  saved  from  the  wreck,  though 
the  "  boys  "  have  to  go  without.  As  they  file  past,  back 
to  their  work,  Edmund  follows  last  and  snatches  a  tartlet 
while  his  mother's  back  is  turned,  winking  at  you  as  he 
does  it.  Mr.  Humphrey  immediately  bolts  another  rather 
guiltily,  so  one,  looking  very  small,  is  left  alone  in  the  plate. 

I'm  afraid  Mrs.  Humphrey  thinks  we  have  gobbled 
them  up  1 

This  room  has  nothing  to  hide  the  bare  wooden  walls 
except  a  few  pictures  from  illustrated  papers  and  a  photo 
or  two  pinned  up.  The  great  stove  is  a  very  ugly  thing, 
and  its  pipe  goes  out  through  the  roof.  Our  room, 
which  opens  off  on  the  same  floor,  is  the  merest  slip  of  a 
place,  with  hardly  room  for  the  couple  of  camp-beds  side 
by  side.  From  the  photos  I  guess  it  is  Edmund's  room, 
and  that  he  has  gone  off  to  sleep  with  the  men  in  their 
quarters  near  the  barn  meantime.  We  have  the  luxury 
of  an  enamel  basin  on  a  tripod,  but,  as  Mr.  Humphrey 
explains,  it's  much  easier  to  get  a  wash  down  with  a  bucket 
outside. 

While  we  sit  on  the  verandah  he  explains  that  he  has 
three  other  children  now  at  school ;  they  will  be  back 
presently,  and  almost  as  he  speaks  a  waggonette  with  a 
roof  over  it  appears  in  the  distance,  and  soon  three  rosy- 
faced  girls,  aged  about  seven,  nine,  and  eleven,  tumble 


376      ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

out,  waving  good-byes  to  a  few  friends  who  go  on  in  the 
conveyance,  before  they  run  in  to  get  their  dinner. 

"  The  authorities  send  the  children  from  the  outlying 
farms  to  school,  and  fetch  them  again  free  now,"  says  Mr. 
Humphrey.  "  It's  the  latest  thing,  and  a  good  thing  too, 
or  they  would  have  to  go  without  education  when  they 
live  as  far  away  as  this." 

"  The  marvel  to  me  is  how  Mrs.  Humphrey  manages  to 
do  it  all,"  I  say. 

"  You  haven't  heard  the  half  !  "  he  ejaculates.  "  She 
does  all  the  washing,  looks  after  the  pigs  and  poultry  you 
see  around  here,  milks  the  cows,  and  finds  time  to  go  to 
every  dance  within  twenty  miles.  She's  a  great  deal 
keener  on  dancing  than  Edmund  is,  though  she  makes  him 
go  with  her.  That's  not  all,  either ;  she'll  show  you  herself 
her  prizes — albums  and  things  she  has  won — that  very 
rocking-chair  you  are  sitting  in  is  one  of  them  ;  those 
are  for  winning  ladies'  races,  there  isn't  one  that  can  beat 
her.  The  finest  day  she  ever  did  was  two  years  ago,  when 
Harry,  that's  the  little  one,  was  only  ten  months  old. 
She  got  up  and  did  the  family  washing  at  five,  milked  the 
cows,  drove  into  Edmonton  with  the  kid — she  hadn't 
anyone  to  leave  it  with  you  see;  she  did  her  shopping, 
turned  up  at  Poplar  Lake  Fair  in  the  afternoon,  and  got 
someone  to  hold  Harry  while  she  won  the  ladies'  race 
there,  giving  a  handicap  to  the  field  !  She's  the  finest 
dancer  in  the  country  round  and  has  won  things  for  that 
too." 

Yet  she  looks  not  much  more  than  a  girl  now  ! 

Next  morning  we  are  up  early,  as  Mr.  Humphrey  has 
asked  us  if  we  would  like  to  go  with  him  to  see  some  cattle 
*'  shipped  "  by  rail  at  Red  Deer,  thirty  miles  away  on  a 
branch  of  the  main  line  between  Calgary  and  Edmonton. 

The  "  boys  "  have  been  off  with  the  beasts  long  before. 

We  reach  Red  Deer  by  half-past  nine,  and  see  from 


INDIANS   AS    IIIKV    ARE    NOW. 


ON  A  CATTLE  RANCH  377 

afar  the  great  herd  of  cattle,  standing  lumped  together, 
while  the  young  men,  including  our  silent  friend,  Edmund, 
sit  motionless  as  statues  on  ponies  surrounding  them. 

As  we  get  nearer  we  see  kraals,  or  enclosures,  close  to 
the  railway  line,  and  on  a  siding  some  empty  cattle-trucks 
ready.  We  are  left  to  sit  in  the  buggy — another  name 
for  a  conveyance — while  Mr.  Humphrey  gives  orders 
and  the  boys  begin  to  round  the  cattle  up.  It  is  a  sight 
to  see  them,  for  they  seem  simply  to  flow  round  the  herd 
in  a  continuous  stream,  they  gallop  so  fast  and  handle 
their  long-lashed  whips  so  cleverly.  The  outer  gate  of  one 
of  the  kraals  has  been  unbarred,  and  the  beasts  are  run 
through  the  opening  into  the  kraal  without  the  slightest 
hitch. 

Mr.  Humphrey  walks  across  and  seats  himself  on  the 
high  railing  of  the  kraal  near  the  trucks.  Then  a  bar  is 
taken  out  on  this  side,  the  first  opening  having  been  closed, 
and  the  cowboys  send  the  cattle  through  this  on  to  the 
slanting  gangway  leading  to  the  first  truck.  The  truck 
holds  just  nineteen  beasts,  and  when  nineteen  are  out  of 
the  kraal  Mr.  Humphrey  drops  the  bar  behind  the  last. 

It  is  a  difficult  job  to  get  the  nineteen  into  the  truck, 
for  they  are  frightened  and  suspicious  and  there  is  only 
just  room  enough  for  them  all  to  pack  in.  But  at  last  it 
is  done,  the  door  is  fastened,  and  the  truck  moved  on  so 
that  the  next  one  comes  abreast  of  the  gangway.  When 
all  the  trucks  but  one  have  been  loaded,  we  count  and 
discover  that  there  are  twenty-two  cattle  left.  Mr. 
Humphrey  shouts  out  that  a  certain  white  steer  must 
go  in  any  case,  and  he  indicates  the  three  beasts  which  can 
be  left. 

But,  of  course,  when  the  whole  lot  come  through  in  a 
bunch  the  white  steer  remains  till  the  last  !  They  are  sent 
back  again  and  brought  forward  once  more;  the  three 
unwanted  ones  press  forward,  and  the  white  steer  remains 


378   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

by  himself  in  the  kraal,  refusing  to  come  out  at  all.  It  is 
exactly  as  if  the  beasts  had  understood  what  had  been  said 
and  were  determined  to  give  as  much  trouble  as  possible. 

The  boys  do  their  work  admirably.  This  time  they 
"  cut  out  "  the  three  unwanted  ones  and  send  them  career- 
ing off  across  the  prairie,  to  make  their  own  way  homeward. 
The  remaining  eighteen  are  fitted  into  the  truck,  and  then 
they  turn  to  tackle  the  steer,  who  stands  in  the  middle  of 
the  kraal  waiting. 

Two  or  three  of  them,  including  Edmund,  sidle  up  to 
him  on  their  ponies  and  try  to  edge  him  toward  the 
gangway.  But  he  only  paws  the  ground  and  throws  his 
head  up  in  the  air.  Just  as  Mr.  Humphrey  shouts  out  a 
warning,  everything  happens  all  together  in  a  second. 

The  steer  makes  a  mad  rush.  Edmund,  who  is  nearest 
the  gate,  is  through  it  like  a  flash.  The  second  man 
gallops  for  the  other  gate  leading  out  of  the  kraal  on  to 
the  prairie,  but  the  third,  who  is  in  the  middle  of  the 
green  space,  hesitates  for  an  instant  and  is  lost.  The 
great  beast  is  at  him,  the  pony  wheels,  slips,  and  falls,  and 
his  rider  is  shot  off.  Another  minute  and  the  steer  is  on 
to  him,  pommelling  at  him  with  its  great  horns.  Edmund, 
however,  has  snatched  up  a  lasso  and  is  back  into  the 
kraal  like  a  streak  of  light ;  without  ever  checking  his 
gallop  he  flings  the  lasso  round  the  enraged  beast's  head, 
and  drags  him  away  in  a  great  semicircle  through  the 
now  open  gate  on  to  the  prairie.  We  see  him  with  a  sharp 
turn  jerk  the  animal  off  its  feet,  and  then  a  revolver 
shot  rings  out ;  there  is  a  convulsive  kick  or  two  and  the 
great  steer  lies  dead. 

Meantime  the  others  have  run  to  lift  up  the  unconscious 
man  in  the  kraal.  Luckily  he  is  not  much  the  worse, 
for  he  has  only  a  fractured  collar-bone  and  a  broken  arm. 
He  was  stunned  by  his  hard  fall,  but  soon  comes  round. 
Nobody    seems    to    think    much    of    this,    but    they    all 


ON  A  CATTLE  RANCH  379 

congratulate  him  on  having  escaped  with  nothing  worse. 
These  accidents  are  daily  risks  in  a  cowboy's  life. 

It  is  late  before  we  get  back,  and  we  have  no  time  to 
wander  round  the  homestead  that  day.  Next  morning 
you  are  up  and  out  early  to  investigate  something  for 
yourself.  I  know  quite  well  what  it  is,  for  you  talked 
"  gopher  "  in  your  sleep. 

In  coming  across  the  prairie  we  saw  here  and  there 
colonies  of  odd  little  beasts  that  looked  a  cross  between 
a  squirrel  and  a  rat.  They  jumped  up  and  sat  on  the  tops 
of  their  holes  to  see  us  pass,  and  then  disappeared  like 
a  Jack-in-the-box  when  we  got  near.  When  I  go  out  a 
bit  later  I  find  you  in  fits  of  laughter  at  the  inquisitive 
little  creatures.  They  can't  resist  peeping,  and  when  they 
have  popped  into  their  holes,  back  come  the  little  heads 
and  bright  eyes  to  watch  what  you  are  doing.  I  am  pretty 
tired,  as  I  was  kept  awake  most  of  the  night  by  a  bird  in  a 
tree  near  the  window  which  kept  saying,  "  Whip-poor- 
will  "  over  and  over  again  at  intervals.  I  understand 
that's  its  name,  and  it  is  hated  by  the  ranchers.  No,  it  is 
not  the  bright  little  black  and  white  bird  like  a  small 
magpie  which  pecks  around,  that  is  a  Wliisky-Jack. 

I  spend  a  gloriously  lazy  morning  watching  you 
crawling  around  behind  the  holes  and  trying  to  grab  the 
gophers  !     Needless  to  say  you  never  get  one  ! 

At  dinner-time  Mr.  Humphrey  is  much  amused  at 
your  game.  "  They  drive  dogs  just  frantic,"  he  says, 
"  especially  young  ones  that  don't  know  them.  Rabbits 
aren't  in  it  !  " 

After  dinner  he  suggests  driving  us  round  the  ranch, 
and  invites  you  to  come  and  help  him  to  yoke  up.  A 
minute  or  two  later  you  both  reappear  without  the  horses. 

"  A  brute  of  a  skunk,"  says  Mr.  Humphrey  tersely  ; 
"  we'll  have  to  wait  a  while." 

It  seems  that  one  of  tiiese  awful  beasts  has  got  into 


38o   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

the  shed  among  the  harness,  and  till  he  chooses  to  move 
nothing  can  be  done.     Naturally  I  want  to  see  him. 

"  You'll  have  to  be  as  quiet  as  a  mouse,"  you  say, 
guiding  me  round  on  tiptoe.  "  Mr.  Humphrey  says  that 
he  has  a  store  of  acrid  fluid  that  stinks  like  rotten  eggs, 
and  if  he's  disturbed  he  lets  you  know  it.  It's  weeks  and 
months  before  any  place  is  free  from  the  smell." 

So  we  peep  cautiously  and  see  an  animal  about  the 
size  of  a  large  cat,  with  bright  black  and  white  markings, 
lying  harmlessly  on  a  pile  of  harness.  It  has  no  sting, 
no  formidable  claws  or  beak,  and  yet  it  is  able  to  keep 
any  number  of  men  from  disturbing  it  while  it  chooses 
to  lie  on  their  possessions.  No  god  could  receive  more 
respect  from  his  believers.  It  is  after  tea-time  when  you, 
creeping  to  report,  tell  us  the  good  news  that  at  last  Mr. 
Skunk  has  gone  away  ! 

A  day  or  two  later  Mr.  Humphrey  says  he  will  take  us 
to  see  an  Indian  reserve,  as  he  thinks  we  ought  not  to 
leave  the  country  without  seeing  one. 

You  know  the  Indians  are  now  looked  after  by  the 
Government.  There  are  certain  pieces  of  land  kept  for 
them,  and  no  one  else  may  live  on  them.  As  the  white 
men  have  spread  over  the  land,  and  used  it  for  corn  and 
cattle,  the  Indians  have  been  driven  farther  back,  and 
find  more  difficulty  in  getting  a  living,  so  now  Government 
agents  are  appointed  to  manage  these  reserves ;  they  know 
all  the  Indians  in  their  charge,  and  deal  out  to  them 
certain  amounts  of  stores  and  look  after  them. 

The  settlement  we  are  to  visit  is  at  Battle  River,  about 
forty  miles  south  of  Edmonton.  The  day  chosen  is  the 
one  when  the  Indians  come  in  from  the  country  to  get 
their  rations.  They  are  a  shabby-looking  crowd  as  they 
gather  up  near  the  lumber  houses  where  the  agent  lives 
and  where  the  stores  are  kept. 

These  are  men  and  women  of  the  tribe  of  the  Crees, 


ON  A  CATTLE  RANCH  381 

a  very  quiet,  peaceful  tribe,  not  troublesome,  like  the  Blood 
Indians.  If  you  imagined  we  should  see  them  with  feathers 
sticking  out  round  their  heads  and  fringes  of  scalps  on  their 
leggings  you  will  be  terribly  disappointed.  All  these  men 
are  in  European  clothes,  with  round  black  felt  hats,  soiled 
coats,  and  blue  overalls  for  trousers.  The  only  thing 
Indian  about  them  are  their  moccasins,  the  soft  leather 
foot-covering  they  wear  instead  of  boots.  They  have  broad 
faces,  lanky  hair,  dark  reddish  skins,  and  rather  a  sullen  ex- 
pression mostly,  and  look  dirty  and  untidy,  like  old  tramps. 
The  squaws,  who  wear  old  shawls  and  skirts,  sit  solemnly 
smoking  all  the  time  ;  they  nearly  all  carry  on  their  backs 
papooses  (babies)  tied  up  tightly  like  little  mummies. 
There  are  endless  numbers  of  lean  cur  dogs,  yapping  and 
snarling  at  each  other  as  they  prowl  for  scraps. 

The  Indians  go  in  single  file  past  the  counter  in  the 
store  and  get  rice  and  tea  and  flour  dealt  out  to  them,  and 
then  each  one  receives  a  portion  of  meat.  The  agent 
speaks  to  each  of  them  by  name,  calling  them  Jim, 
Dick,  or  Charlie.  Such  grand  names  as  ''  Sitting-Bull  " 
or  "  Swift-as-the-Moose  "  are  mostly  discarded  now  in 
favour  of  something  more  European,  which  is  considered 
more  fashionable.  The  Indians  hardly  speak  and  never 
smile,  the  expression  on  their  faces  does  not  alter  in  the 
slightest  when  the  agent  chaffs  them.  When  they  leave 
the  store  they  carry  their  provisions  over  to  where  a  lot 
of  rougli-looking  ponies  are  grazing.  Do  you  see  what 
a  simple  arrangement  these  ponies  drag  ?  It  is  made 
merely  of  a  couple  of  long  sticks,  which  run  on  each 
side  of  the  pony  like  shafts ;  at  the  back  the  ends  are 
crossed  and  tied  together  and  trail  on  the  ground.  The 
goods  are  fixed  on  to  these  sticks,  and  then,  seating 
themselves  on  the  top  of  the  bundles,  the  Indians  set 
off  homeward,  followed  by  their  patient  squaws,  who 
trail  along  after  them  on  foot,  carrying  the  papooses. 


CROSSING   LAKE   SUPERIOR. 


CHAPTER    XXXII 


THE    GREAT   LAKES 


If  we  found  the  prairie  astonishing  even  when  uncultivated, 
what  of  this  ?  Corn,  ripened  in  the  sun,  and  spreading 
over  mile  after  mile  on  both  sides  of  the  railway  line  ! 
There  are  no  neat  little  fences  to  cut  it  up  into  fields,  and 
it  does  not  grow  unevenly,  but  all  at  one  height,  so  the 
effect  is  a  flat  and  boundless  plain,  yellow  as  the  desert 
sand.  Everyone  has  heard  of  the  grain  fields  of  Canada, 
the  great  stretch  of  land,  about  a  thousand  miles  in  width, 
from  whence  corn  is  shipped  to  the  remotest  ends  of  the 
earth. 

We    lingered   on   so  long   with   the   Humphreys  that 
already   the   harvest   is   ready   for   cutting.     On   leaving 

Calgary  we  passed  through  some  towns  with  astonishing 

382 


THE  GREAT  LAKES 


3^3 


names.  The  first  we  noticed  was  Medicine  Hat,  which  Mr. 
Kipling  has  written  about  as  "  The  Town  that  was  Born 
Lucky,"  because  gas  was  discovered  in  great  quantities 
below  the  surface,  and  when  holes  are  bored  for  it  huge 
jets  spring  forth  and  can  be  used  in  countless  ways  ;  even 
the  engines  of  the  C.P.R.  make  use  of  it. 

Then  we  came  across  Moose  Jaw, 
Swift  Current,  Indian  Head,  and 
Portage  La  Prairie.  I  forget  at 
which  of  these  it  was  we  saw  Indians 
in  all  the  gaudy  finery  of  their 
ancestors,  with  feathers  sticking 
up  on  their  heads,  buckskin  shirts 
covered  all  over  with  beads  and 
decorated  with  tassels,  in  which 
coloured  grasses  were  twisted.  As 
the  Indian  may  not  take  scalps  now 
he  has  to  find  other  trimmings  ! 
These  men  dress  up  like  this  to 
attract  tourists,  because  they  want 
to  sell  buffalo  horns,  bead  -  work 
moccasins  and  bags,  and  many 
other  things. 

Then  we  got  to  Regina,  the  head- 
quarters  of   the    Royal   North-West 
Mounted    Police,     and    were    lucky 
enougli  to  catch  sight  of  one  or  two 
of    the    force    in    their    neat    work- 
manlike   khaki,    witli    their    round    broad-brimmed    hats 
which   the    Boy  Scouts   have   imitated.     These  men    are 
hard  as  nails  and  absolutely  fearless;    the   story  of  the 
adventures  of  the  force  would  make  a  thrilling  book. 

At  every  station  we  notice  tall  odd-looking  buildings 
whicli  form  no  part  of  an  English  station.  These  are 
grain-elevators.     When  the  farmer  has  threshed  his  corn 


INDIAN   IN   ANCIENT 
FINERY. 


384   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 


NORTH-WEST   MOUNTED   POLICE. 


he  can  bring  it  here  and  receive  a  receipt  for  it,  and  have 
it  stored  ;  then  it  is  run  up  to  the  top  of  one  of  these  places 
by  endless  ropes,  and  thence  can  be  easily  poured  down 
out  of  a  funnel-like  shaft  into  the  waiting  trucks  for 
shipment. 

At  last  there  is  a  farm  where  the  corn  is  being  cut ! 
I  have  been  watching  to  see  one.  That  row  of  machines 
following  each  other,  in  what  seems  from  here  to  be  a 
line,  are  cutting  and  binding  the  corn  and  turning  it  out 
in  neat  sheaves.  The  Canadian  farmer  is  often  very  much 
ahead  of  us  in  the  way  of  machinery.  He  has  to  be,  for 
sometimes  he  has  furrows  four  miles  long  and  a  farm 
the  size  of  an  English  county.  There  is,  for  instance,  a 
steam-plough  which  takes  twelve  fourteen-inch  furrows 


THE  GREAT  LAKES  385 

at  once  !  TOiat  would  an  English  yokel,  meandering 
along  at  the  tail  of  his  two  slow  horses,  say  to  that  ? 
His  little  job  would  be  done  before  it  was  time  for  break- 
fast !  Hullo  !  there  is  another  field,  all  in  stocks  already — 
look  across  the  boundless  plain  to  the  horizon.  There  is 
nothing  to  be  seen  but  stooks  and  that  thin  telephone 
wire  running  like  a  line  in  the  sky  in  the  far  distance. 
When  you  look  at  any  map  of  Canada  you  can't  help 
noticing  how  straight  the  boundaries  of  the  provinces 
are,  just  as  if  ruled  with  a  ruler  ;  as  a  matter  of  fact  they 
run  usually  on  lines  of  longitude  or  latitude,  and  are  thus 
very  different  from  our  county  boundaries,  which  have 
grown  up  anyhow.  This  province  we  are  now  in,  Mani- 
toba, has  recently  been  increased  by  an  immense  area  of 
land  in  the  north,  so  that  it  now  has  a  seashore  on 
Hudson  Bay,  but  before  that  it  was  nearly  square.  The 
farms  are  measured  out  in  the  same  exact  way  too ; 
men  have  land  given  to  them  in  sections  a  mile  square, 
and  a  man  can  take  more  than  one  section,  or  he  can  have 
a  part  of  one,  but  every  bit  of  land  granted  is  marked  out 
evenly  like  the  squares  on  a  chess-board. 

The  days  of  our  journey  east  seem  to  be  just  a  suc- 
cession of  endless  cornfields  and  grain-elevators,  with 
glimpses  of  busy  towns  and  small  stations.  And  in  the 
evening  we  see  a  yellow  glow  of  sunset  lighting  up  the 
uncut  fields  in  a  splendour  of  light  that  is  worth  coming 
far  to  see.  There  is  a  very  striking  difference  about  the 
twilight  here  and  in  the  East.  You  remember  there  how 
night  seemed  to  shut  down  close  upon  sunset,  here  the 
light  remains  on  in  the  sky  for  many  hours,  even  at  nine 
o'clock  we  can  see  the  hands  of  our  watches. 

Every  now  and  then  we  discover  our  watches  are  an 

hour  slow,  and  we  have  to  jump  the  pointers  on.     This 

is   because   Canada  and   the   States   are  divided   up   into 

strips  by  north  and  south  lines,  which  mark  off  the  time 

25 


386      ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

to  be  kept  in  each.  As  I  explained  long  ago — how  very 
long  ago  it  seems  ! — America  is  too  vast  a  continent  to 
keep  one  set  time  from  shore  to  shore,  as  we  do  in  our  little 
country,  so  it  was  found  convenient  to  make  definite 
lines,  each  one  hour  apart,  all  the  way  across. 

Then  we  arrive  at  Winnipeg,  the  capital  of  Manitoba 
and  the  largest  corn-market  in  the  world.  The  town  is 
almost  exactly  half-way  across  Canada.  But  we  are  not 
going  to  stop  here,  for  towns  do  not  interest  us  so  much 
as  nature,  though  if  we  could  have  had  a  peep  into  the 
wide  main  street,  with  its  towering  buildings,  remembering 
it  was  a  prairie  trail  thirty  years  ago,  it  would  have  been 
worth  while. 

The  rest  of  that  day  we  run  through  much  prettier 
scenery  than  the  cornland,  which  has  become  very 
monotonous,  and  at  night-time  arrive  at  a  place  called 
Port  Arthur,  where  we  are  going  to  leave  the  train  and 
explore  the  Great  Lakes.  Well  may  they  be  called 
"  Great  "  !  In  Lake  Superior,  the  largest  of  the  five, 
you  could  put  the  whole  of  your  native  land,  Scotland, 
and  have  nearly  two  thousand  square  miles  left  over  ! 
This  is  the  largest  fresh-water  lake  in  the  world.  There 
are  five  lakes  here  lying  together,  and  the  three  largest — 
Superior,  Michigan,  and  Huron — spring  from  a  common 
centre  and  stretch  out  just  like  the  fingers  of  a  horse- 
chestnut  leaf,  but  you  will  find  out  all  this  to-morrow. 

It  is  a  glorious  afternoon  the  next  day  when  we  first 
catch  sight  of  the  steamer  waiting  to  take  us  across  Lake 
Superior.  She  is  more  like  an  ocean  liner  than  anything 
else.  She  is  called  the  Hamonic,  and  is  indeed  as  large 
as  many  of  the  ships  of  well-known  lines  running  out  to 
the  East  from  England,  for  she  is  five  thousand  tons,  with 
accommodation  for  four  hundred  first-class  passengers. 
On  the  upper  deck  is  an  observation  room  with  windows 
along  the  whole  length  of  each  side.     For  all  we  can  see, 


THE  GREAT  LAKES  387 

when  once  we  are  out  of  sight  of  the  shore,  we  might 
have  left  Canada  for  ever  and  be  taking  our  final  plunge 
across  the  Atlantic  homeward.  And  it  is  tlie  same  thing 
all  the  next  day.  We  see  no  land  and  might  as  well  be 
on  the  broad  ocean,  until,  after  luncheon,  we  come  to 
the  great  lock,  or  canal,  which  joins  the  two  lakes  of  Superior 
and  Huron.  It  is  nine  hundred  feet  long,  and  had  to  be 
made  because  the  levels  of  the  two  lakes  are  different,  and 
no  steamer  could  have  come  through  the  rapids  which 
the  Indians  used  to  love  to  shoot  in  their  canoes.  \^nien 
we  are  through  the  lock  we  stop  at  a  large  and  flourishing 
place  called  Sault  Ste  Marie,  and  then  get  into  far  the 
prettiest  part  of  the  route  among  the  islands,  where  we 
see  fine  trees  already  turning  crimson  and  gold.  Right 
across  Lake  Huron  we  go,  passing  the  entrance  to  Lake 
Michigan,  and  reach  Sarnia  at  one  o'clock  the  next  day. 
Sarnia  stands  on  a  narrow  strait,  and  just  opposite  is 
part  of  the  territory  of  the  United  States  of  America. 

If  Canadians  are  sons  and  daughters  of  Great  Britain, 
the  Americans  are  first  cousins,  for  there  is  no  other 
country  in  the  world,  outside  the  British  Empire,  of 
nearer  kin  to  us  than  the  mighty  nation  which  leads  in 
the  van  of  progress  in  all  manufactures  and  enterprise. 


A  GATEWAY    IN   QUEBEC. 


CHAPTER    XXXIII 


OLD   FRIENDS   AGAIN 


Supposing  that  some  of  our  friends  in  Britain,  who  are 
expecting  to  greet  us  at  home  in  a  week,  could  see  us  now, 
suddenly,  I  wonder  where  they  would  think  we  had  got 
to  !  Covered  in  borrowed  oilskins,  we  stand  in  a  mighty 
cavern,  whose  vast  stone  roof  reaches  up  to  a  hundred 
feet  or  more,  though  in  width  it  is  comparatively  narrow, 
like  a  long  shelf.  In  front  of  us  is  a  wall  of  water  so  thick 
and  overwhelming  that  it  resembles  a  curtain  of  giants  ; 
the  roar  of  the  falling  water  and  the  howl  of  the  never- 
ceasing  wind  mingle  in  a  great  turmoil,  and  the  air  is  thick 
with  dashing  spray.  Fitting  is  the  name  of  the  Cave  of 
the  Winds  !  For  we  are  standing  in  a  cave  right  beneath 
one  of  the  wonders  of  the  world — ^the  Falls  of  Niagara, 
on  the  American  side.  We  have  only  had  a  glimpse  of 
the  gigantic  waterfall  so  far,  for  we  came  straight  here, 

and  presently  are  going  round  outside  on  an  electric  tram. 

388 


THE    FALLS   OF   NIAGARA. 


OLD  FRIENDS  AGAIN  389 

These  Falls  lie  between  the  two  least  of  the  Great  Lakes, 
Erie  and  Ontario,  and  on  one  side  of  them  is  America, 
and  the  other  Canada.  We  crossed  on  a  bridge  from  the 
American  side  to  an  island  in  the  middle  called  Goat 
Island,  and  then  dived  downward  to  this  gigantic  cave 
right  below  the  American  Fall.  It  gives  one  a  mighty 
idea  of  power,  doesn't  it  ?  The  world  can't  afford  to 
waste  power  nowadays  when  it  can  be  harnessed  up 
for  use  in  generating  electricity  and  a  hundred  other  ways, 
and  not  long  before  the  end  of  the  last  century  power 
stations  were  started  on  both  sides  of  the  Falls  to  use  this 
force.  People  cried  out  at  first,  thinking  that  the  stupend- 
ous sight  might  be  spoiled,  but  not  a  bit  of  it.  What  man 
has  used  is  but  as  a  few  spoonfuls  compared  with  the  vast 
energy  of  the  tons  of  water  flowing  resistlessly  and  cease- 
lessly day  and  night  down  these  precipices  and  onward 
to  the  sea.  Put  out  your  finger  and  thrust  it  into  the  wall 
of  water ;  the  force  of  it  sends  your  arm  down  to  your  side 
like  a  railway  signal.  We  are  not  alone  in  the  cave  ;  there 
are  many  other  people  from  all  parts  of  the  world.  We 
heard  French  and  German  talked  as  we  came  across, 
though  there  is  no  chance  of  hearing  any  conversation  now. 
As  we  climb  up  again  and  put  off  the  wet  oilskins,  kept 
for  the  use  of  visitors,  the  roar  becomes  less,  and  when 
suddenly  someone  takes  hold  of  my  arm  in  a  friendly  way, 
and  calls  out  my  name,  I  wheel  round  to  face  the  "  nice  " 
American  who  saved  us  from  starvation  in  the  train  in 
Egypt  !  He  has  recognised  us  at  once  and  grips  our  hands 
heartily.  When  we  emerge  on  to  the  bridge  he  is  full  of 
questions  about  our  trip,  and  wants  to  know  what  we  have 
seen  and  what  we  have  done.  He  has  with  him  a  boy 
who  looks  several  years  older  than  you,  and  he  tells  us 
that  this  is  his  son,  who  is  studying  at  Harvard,  but  off 
on  the  long  vacation.  So  we  all  go  together  back  to 
Prospect   Park,    on   the  American   side,   and   get   into  an 


390   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 


THE   FALLS  OF   NIAGARA. 


electric  car,  which  swings  over  a  bridge  just  below  the  Falls, 
where  we  can  see  the  whole  grand  panorama  and  both 
Falls.  The  Canadian  one  is  called  the  Horseshoe  Fall. 
Often  you  must  have  seen  pictures  of  Niagara ;  but 
pictures  do  not  convey  much,  and  this  is  one  of  the  few 
sights  in  the  world  that  runs  beyond  expectation.  As 
the  torrent  pouring  over  strikes  the  water  below,  the  foam 
flies  up  in  a  vast  frothy  mass  into  the  air ;  we,  from  our 
height,  look  down  upon  it  and  upon  a  tiny  steamer  in  the 
basin  just  below.  The  reason  why  the  steamer  is  able  to 
sail  so  near  the  Falls  without  being  swept  down  is  because 
the  falling  water  descends  with  such  force  that  it  goes 
right  below  the  surface  of  the  bay  and  does  not  agitate  it 
at  all.     On  the  other  side,  away  from  the   Falls,  farther 


OLD  FRIENDS  AGAIN  391 

down  the  river,  there  is  a  high  suspension  bridge  belonging 
to  the  Grand  Trunk  Railway  of  Canada,  with  a  place  for 
carriages  and  foot-passengers  below  the  lines.  A  carriage 
crawling  over  it  looks  like  a  small  beetle.  There  was  an 
awful  scene  here  not  so  long  ago  in  the  winter-time,  when 
the  river  was  frozen  from  shore  to  shore.  Some  people 
were  on  the  ice,  which  began  to  break  up  in  large  blocks, 
and  in  the  very  sight  of  hundreds  of  their  fellow-creatures, 
who  vainly  tried  to  save  them  by  throwing  ropes,  several 
were  swept  away,  including  a  man  and  his  wife,  who  were 
on  a  floating  hummock.  The  man  actually  got  hold  of  one 
of  the  ropes,  but  his  wife  had  fainted,  and  in  trying  to 
support  her  the  rope  slipped  through  his  fingers,  and 
together  the  two  black  specks  on  the  white  ice-block  were 
borne  bv  the  current  to  their  doom.  A  never-to-be- 
forgotten  tragedy  ! 

After  we  have  crossed  the  water  we  run  along  on  the 
Canadian  side  close  to  the  edge  of  the  cliff,  high  up,  follow- 
ing the  course  of  the  current  downward ;  we  go  round  a 
great  curve,  \yhere  it  boils  in  a  whirlpool,  we  pass  by  a  tall 
monument,  and  then,  much  farther  down,  we  cross  another 
bridge,  and  are  brought  back  on  the  American  side,  where 
the  line  runs  at  first  low  down  and  gradually  mounts  till, 
after  passing  below  the  suspension  bridge,  we  reach  our 
starting-place.  While  we  are  close  to  the  surface  of  tlie 
water  we  see  the  Rapids  splendidly.  This  is  where  the 
swift  water  from  the  Falls  has  come  again  to  the  surface, 
and,  hemmed  in  by  the  walls  of  the  gorge,  it  tosses  in  fury ; 
long  sprays  leap  up  from  below  like  grabbing  fingers  clutch- 
ing to  drag  men  down  ;  miniature  whirlpools  boil,  and 
in  the  centre  the  water  is  forced  up  higher  tlian  at  the 
sides. 

All  the  time  our  American  friend  and  his  son,  who 
seems  quite  a  man  of  the  world,  and  has  been  to  tiic  Falls 
several  times  before,  are  trying  to  persuade  us  to  go  home 


392       ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 


THE   ST.    LAWRENCE. 


by  New  York  and  pay  them  a  visit  en  route.  Unfortu- 
nately we  cannot.  Our  passages  are  booked  by  a 
steamer  belonging  to  the  Allan  Line,  which  sails  from 
Montreal  the  day  after  to-morrow.  But  I  think  perhaps 
sometime  we  may  come  back  and  make  a  tour  of  the 
States  ! 

It  is  hard  to  say  good-bye  and  tear  ourselves  away 
from  our  hospitable  friends,  but  it  must  be  done.  The 
next  day  sees  us  at  the  fine  city  of  Montreal,  having  come 
by  way  of  Toronto,  the  capital  of  Canada. 

Montreal  is  a  very  bright  city,  with  trees  lining  the 
streets  and  the  mountains  rising  at  the  back,  and  all 
the  inhabitants  seem  cheerful  and  good-natured.  The 
great  liner  waiting  to  carry  us  homeward  can  only  get 
as  far  as  this  up  the  St.  Lawrence  in  the  summer ;  in 
winter  she  sets  down  her  passengers  at  Halifax,  in  Nova 
Scotia,  right  out  on  the  ocean. 

As  she  steams  slowly  up  the  beautiful  river  we  see  the 


OLD  FRIENDS  AGAIN  393 

trees  bursting  out  here  and  there  into  a  perfect  flame  of 
colour.  The  maple  is  Canada's  special  tree,  and  it  is  the 
maples  that  make  those  crimson  flame-like  patches  among 
the  other  foliage.  We  notice,  too,  what  an  unusual  quantity 
of  dead  wood  is  left  standing ;  this,  in  a  small  country  like 
England,  would  be  cleared  out  or  cut  away,  but  here  the 
forests  are  so  vast  that  it  is  left  to  rot. 

Then  we  pass  Quebec  on  its  heights,  where  Wolfe  won 
his  great  victory,  and  so  made  Canada  British  for  ever. 
It  is  odd,  however,  to  notice,  especially  during  the  last 
part  of  our  journey,  how  very  French  the  people  are  in 
their  ways  and  customs.  At  one  small  station  I  re- 
member hearing  a  man  chatting  away  in  French  and 
gesticulating  like  a  Frenchman,  and  as  he  turned  to  go 
another  called  after  him,  "  Ha,  MacDougall !  "  The 
truth  is  that  the  original  settlers  here  were  mostly  French, 
but  after  a  while  many  emigrants  came  over  from  Scot- 
land and  intermarried  with  them,  and  the  cliildren,  who 
naturally  bore  their  father's  surnames,  learned  their 
mother's  native  tongue  ! 

Once  out  of  the  St.  Lawrence  we  begin  to  feel  the 
roll  of  the  great  waves,  but  we  need  not  at  this  time  of 
year  expect  anything  very  bad,  and  we  shall  see  no  ice- 
bergs. The  early  summer  is  the  worst  time  for  them,  for 
the  warm  currents  have  loosened  them  from  the  icefields 
in  the  north,  and  they  float  southwards.  The  voyage  is 
uneventful,  and,  seasoned  sailors  as  we  are,  we  never  miss 
a  meal  during  the  week  that  it  takes  to  cross  before  we 
sight  the  chimneys  and  wharves  of  grimy  Liverpool. 

As  we  step  on  to  British  soil  once  more,  on  the  wharf  we 
turn  and  look  at  each  other. 

Has  it  come  up  to  expectation  ?  You  are  not  sorry 
you  went  with  me  ? 

As  for  me,  I  have  never  liad  a  pleasantcr  companion 
and  never  wish   lor  one.     Hullo  !    here  are  your  people, 


394   ROUND  THE  WONDERFUL  WORLD 

ready  to  carry  you  off,  rejoiced  to  find  you  safe  and  sound 
after  not  liaving  seen  you  for  nearly  a  year,  during  which 
time  you  have  spanned  the  world  and  travelled  some- 
where about  twenty-five  thousand  miles. 
Good-bye  ! 


THE    END 


INDEX 


Abu  Simbel  by  sunrise,  109. 
Acre,  147. 
Aden,  165. 
Africa,  51. 
Albert,  Lake,  55. 
Amenhetep  11.,  tomb  of,  90. 
Amenhetep  in.,  79. 
Ants,  white,  278,  279. 
Anuradhapura,  194. 
Apes,  Barbary,  27. 
Arabs,  128. 
Asia,  120. 
Assouan,  102, 
dam  at,  118. 

Babel  Mandeb,  Straits  of,  165. 
Bakshish,  70,  181. 
Banff,  Canada,  369. 
Barbarv  apes,  28. 
Battle  River,  380. 
Bazaar,  an  Indian,  228. 

at  Jerusalem,  129. 
Benares,  242. 
Betel-nut  chewing,  258. 
Bethany,  137. 
Bethlehem,  137. 
Bisharin  tribe,  105. 
Bison,  Canadian,  370. 
Bitter  Lake,  157,  160. 
Bo  tree,  the  sacred,  200. 
Bombay,  203-208. 
Bonito,  the,  168. 
Borneo,  313. 
Boxing  in  Burma,  269. 
Brahmans,  214,  231. 
Brazen  Palace,  Ceylon,  198. 
Buddha,  186,  196,  254,  260,  261. 
Buddhists,  186,  244,  252,  321. 
Buffalo,  a  Burmese,  292. 

North  American,  370. 
Burma,  250. 

Cairo,  53,  56,  58. 
Calcutta,  218. 
Calgary,  372. 


Camels,  68,  104. 

Canada,  345. 

Canadian  Pacific  Railway,  360. 

Canons  in  the  Rockies,  367. 

Caste,  Indian,  214. 

Cathedral  Rocks,  369. 

Cattle  ranch,  a  Canadian,  371-381. 

Cattle  train,  a  Canadian,  363,  376. 

Cawnpore,  235. 

Well  of,  236. 
Ce>lon,  179. 
Cheops,  King,  61,  62. 
Child- widows  of  India,  231. 
Chinamen  in  Malay,  306,  308. 

in  Vancouver,  347. 
Chinese  temple,  307. 
Chuprassie,  a  Burmese,  264. 
Cingalese,  the,  180. 
Circuit  House,  Mandalay,  272. 
Clogs,  Japanese,  327. 
Colombo,  179. 
Colossi,  the,  87. 

Corn-growing  in  Canada,  382,  384. 
Cotton-growing  in  Egypt,  68. 
Crees,  380. 

Customs  house,  French,  10. 
Cyclone,  a,  175,  176. 

Dagoba,  a,  194,  195. 

Dead  Sea,  136. 

Delhi,  218-234. 

Delta  of  the  Nile,  54. 

Der  El  Bahari,  Temple  of,  92. 

Desert,  the,  157. 

Dolphins,  172. 

Dover,  5,  7,  8. 

Dragoman,  the  Egyptian,  85,  ^7. 

Dutugemunu,  King,  197. 

Earthquakes,  50. 
Edmonton,  380. 
Edward,  Lake,  55. 
Egypt,  53. 
Egyptian  gods,  82. 
Elala,  story  of,  197. 


39  s 


396 


INDEX 


Elephants,  Burmese,  276,  292,  360. 
Esquimault,  346. 
Etna,  Mount,  49. 

Fakir,  a,  244,  245. 

Fellaheen,  Egyptian,  69. 

Figs,  Indian,  45. 

Fire-flies,  201. 

Fish,  deep-sea,  170. 

Flying  fish,  168. 

France,  journey  through,  8-19. 

Fraser  River,  348. 

Fruit-growing  in  Canada,  368,  369. 

Fruits  preserved,  16,  17. 

Fujiyama,  318,  338. 

Galilee,  Sea  of,  143. 

Ganesh,  the  elephant-god,  247. 

Ganges,  the,  242,  243. 

Garden  party  in  Burma,  a,  264. 

Gateway,  Japanese,  320. 

Gendarmes,  French,  16. 

Georgetown,  Penang,  305. 

Geta  clogs,  Japanese,  327. 

Gethsemane,  Garden  of,  136. 

Ghurkas,  220. 

Gibraltar,  27-32,  50. 

Gizeh,  Pyramids  of,  60,  62. 

Glacier,  369. 

Golden  Pagoda,  the,  257. 

Gophers,  379. 

Grain  elevators,  383. 

"  Great  Divide,"  the,  369. 

Haifa,  adventures  on  way  to,   146, 

147. 
Hatshepset,  Queen,  92. 
Herculaneum,  destruction  of,  40. 
Hindus,  the,  244. 
Holy  Land,  the,  120. 
Hong-Kong,  314. 
Huron,  Lake,  387. 

India,  203. 

travelling  in,  208-217. 
Indian  corn,  66. 
Indian  Ocean,  168. 
Indians,  North  American,  350,  352, 

380,  383. 
Irrawaddy,  the,  251. 

the    voyage    by    cargo     boat     on, 

278. 
Ismailia,  156. 
Israel,  the  land  of,  123. 
Italy,  in,  36. 


Jaffa,  121. 

Japan,  320. 

Japanese  gateway,  a,  327. 

inn,  in  a,  332-344. 

porters,  335. 
Jerusalem,  a  walk  about,  120-138. 
Jews,  the,  121,  128,  134. 
Jews'  Wailing-Place,  134. 
Jim's  story  of  his   adventure   with 

Joyce,  291-303. 
Jordan,  the  river,  137. 
Joyce,  278-289;  her  adventure  with 
Jim,  291-303. 

Kandy,  184. 

Karnak,  Temple  of,  83. 

Kashmir  Gate,  Delhi,  story  of,  224. 

Khartoum,  106,  115. 

Kicking  Horse  Pass,  369. 

Kishon,  the  river,  149. 

Kobe,  317. 

Kootenay,  368. 

Kutab  Minar,  Delhi,  227,  228. 

Kutho-daw,  Mandalay,  the,  275. 

Lakes,  the  great  African,  55. 

the  great  American,  382-387. 
Lascars,  157,  281. 
Leogryphs,  Burmese,  257. 
Lesseps,  Ferdinand  de,  52,  153,  154. 
Let- pet,  281. 
Lulu    Island,    salmon    cannery    on, 

349- 
Lumbering,  359. 

Luxor,  65,  75. 

Temple  of,  78-84. 

Macaroni,  39. 
Malays,  306,  312. 
Mandalay,  272. 
Mangoes,  266. 
Manitoba,  385. 
Maples,  Canadian,  393. 
Marseilles,  16-19. 

strange  bridge  at,  18,  19. 
Mecca,  159. 

Medicine  Hat,  town  of,  383. 
Messina  earthquake,  47-49. 

Straits  of,  47. 
Mikado,  the,  329. 
Mimosas,  292. 
Mohammedans,  107,  159. 
Monkeys,  grey,  of  Ceylon,  195. 
Monks,  Burmese,  252. 
Monsoon,  the  North-East,  175,  176. 


INDEX 


397 


Montreal,  392. 

Moses'  Well,  161. 

Mosque  of  Omar,  132,  133. 

Mosquitoes,  57. 

Mount  of  Olives,  134,  135. 

Mummies,  Egyptian,  89. 

Naples,  17 ,  50. 

Nazareth,  138,  140-146. 

Negro  attendants  on  C.P.R.,  361 

New  Zealand,  166. 

Ngape,  253. 

Niagara  Falls,  388. 

NUe,  the,  53-56,  77. 

voyage  by  steamer  up,  95-108. 
North- American   Indians,    350, 

380,  383- 
Nubia,  103. 

Ocean,  depths  of  the,  168-178. 
Olives,  Mount  of,  134,  135. 
Orient  line,  the,  6,  20. 

Pagahn,  Burma,  284. 
Pagodas,  Burmese,  257,  284. 
Palestine,  120. 
Paris,  14. 
Parsees,  207. 
Penang,  304. 
Persian,  a,  206,  207. 
Pharaohs,  the,  79. 

tombs  near  Thebes,  85. 
Phosphorescence,  174. 
Policemen,  French,  16. 
Pompeii,  story  of,  39,  40-45. 
Poongyi,  a  Burmese,  252. 
Port  Moody,  360. 
Port  Said,  52,  153. 
Porters,  Japanese,  335. 
Potter,  an  Indian,  232. 
Prairie,  the  Canadian,  371. 
Pulo  Pera,  sea-birds  on,  305. 
Pw6,  a  Burmese,  285. 
Pyramids,  the,  60. 


352, 


Quebec,  393. 

Raffles,     Sir     Stamford, 

314- 
Ramescs  11.,  79,  80,  194. 

statues  of,  1 10,  1 1 1. 
Rangoon  River,  251. 
Red  Sea,  162. 
Regina,  383. 
Revelstokc,  368,  369. 


312,     313, 


Rice-growing  in  Ceylon,  184. 
Rickshaws,  Ceylon,  180,  182. 

Japanese,  325. 

Malayan,  307. 
Rocky  Mountains,  358. 
Rokwren  Island,  316. 
Roman  Empire,  the,  50. 
Rosetta  Stone,  79. 
Ruanveli  dagoba,  196-198. 
Russian  Pilgrims,  131,  137. 

Saddiyeh,  a,  98. 

St.  Lawrence  River,  392. 

Salmon  cannery  on  Lulu  Island,  349, 

352-353- 
Salmon  in  Eraser  River,  348. 
Sampan,  in  a,  306. 
Sarnia,  387. 
Sault  Ste  Marie,  387. 
Sawbwa  of  Hsipaw,  the,  268. 
Scarabs,  Egyptian,  93. 
Scorpion,  a,  274. 
Selkirk  Mountains,  304. 
Shaduf,  a,  96. 
Shanghai,  316. 

Sheep-farming  in  Australia,  166. 
Shinto  Temple,  320. 
Shintoism,  321. 
Ship,  life  on  board,  21. 
Shiva,  the  god,  247. 
Shwe  Dagon,  the,  259. 
Sicily,  47. 
Sikhs,  the,  221. 
Sinai,  peninsula  of,  161. 
Singapore,  311. 
Siwash  Indians,  350,  352. 
Skunk,  379. 

Snake-charmer,  a,  180-181. 
Snakes,  202. 

Solomon's  Temple,  132,  134. 
Soudan, the,  106,  114. 
Southern  Cross,  164. 
Spain,  26. 
Sphinx,  the,  62. 
Storm    on    the    Indian  Ocean,    174- 

178. 
Straits  Settlements,  304. 
Strathcona,  Lord,  368. 
Stromboli,  45. 
Suez  Canal,  153-161. 
Sugar-cane  growing  in  Egypt,  69. 
Sumatra,  305. 
Sunrise  at  Abu  Simbel,  109. 
Superior,  Lake,  386. 
Sydney,  166. 


398 


INDEX 


Tailor,  the  Indian,  230. 
Tamils,  180. 
Tarantula,  a,  275. 
Tea-plantation,  a  visit  to,  179-191. 
Temples,  Burmese,  257,  284. 

Chinese,  307,  308. 

Shinto,  320. 
Thebes,  yj. 

Theebaw,  King,  268,  275. 
Thunderstorm,  a  tropical,  179-191. 
Time,  alteration  in,  172,  385. 
Tokyo,  321,  325. 
Tombs  of  the  Kings,  85. 
Tooth,  Temple  of  the,  185. 
Torii,  a  Japanese,  320. 
Tortoises,  sacred,  193. 
Toulon,  32,  50. 
Towers  of  Silence,  Bombay,  208. 


Tripoli,  38. 
Typhoon,  a,  176. 

Vancouver  Island,  345. 

town  of,  358. 
Vesuvius,  Mount,  2)7 ,  40. 
Victoria,  Lake,  55. 
Victoria,  Vancouver,  345. 
Volcanoes,  36,  50. 
Vultures,  207,  208. 

Wady  Haifa,  114,  116. 
Weaver,  an  Indian,  231. 
Wheat  -  growing     in     Canada, 

384- 
Winnipeg,  386. 

Yokohama,  318. 


382, 


^74,3 


& 


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